


Married Life of Roadrat

by JunkratKnows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Anniversary, Bottom Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Declarations Of Love, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Smut, Families of Choice, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Junkrat Does Okay With Feelings, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes Has ADHD, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes is a Little Shit, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Roadhog is Bad With Feelings, Same-Sex Marriage, Secret Marriage, Sickfic, Size Difference, Slice of Life, Stream of Consciousness, Threats of Violence, Top Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunkratKnows/pseuds/JunkratKnows
Summary: Roadhog and Junkrat’s relationship hadn’t always been the petty romance they were used to. Before the gentle kisses and soft, healing sex after a tough heist that left them weary, there was a bodyguard and an employer… who had sex… often.At the time, almost seven months into their partnership, it had been to relieve stress, having sex that was. There was nothing between them, just this animalistic need to relieve themselves when sexual frustration arose within them. Yeah, just animalistic sex with no passion or love to it.Well, that was until Junkrat caught feelings for his bodyguard and consequently ended up marrying the bastard.
Relationships: Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes & Lúcio Correia dos Santos & Hana "D.Va" Song, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes & Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Roadhog | Mako Rutledge
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	1. How it All Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter is a lead up of how Roadhog and Junkrat got together and what ensued before getting married. All chapters after that are from when they joined Overwatch. This story is going to be like a slice-of-life mixed with a plot, so voice your opinions.

Roadhog and Junkrat’s relationship hadn’t always been the petty romance they were used to. Before the gentle kisses and soft, healing sex after a tough heist that left them weary, there was a bodyguard and an employer… who had sex…  _ often _ . 

At the time, almost seven months into their partnership, it had been to relieve stress, having sex that was. There was nothing between them, just this animalistic need to relieve themselves when sexual frustration arose within them. Yeah, just animalistic sex with no passion or love for it. 

Well, that was until Junkrat caught feelings for his bodyguard.

In all honesty, the junker hadn’t meant to. Hell, he didn’t even  _ want  _ to catch feelings for Roadhog. Really. The budding feelings in the pit of his stomach boiled down to one simple  _ thing _ : Roadhog had saved his life. And yeah, he’s Junkrat’s bodyguard - it’s kind off his  _ job  _ to protect the man. That’s not the point.

Roadhog had  _ saved  _ his  _ life _ . 

It had been an accident, both the incident and Junkrat’s small… crush. The two had been battling against some bandits who were trying to get some easy bank by killing Junkrat and Roadhog. It was during the midst of their firefight when a rival gang of bandits had shown up, moving to attack both their rivals and the duo.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Junkrat might have a few screws loose somewhere in his noggin’ but he wasn’t  _ stupid _ , at least, not stupid enough to blow himself up! He’d never even considered blowing himself to smithereens. However, he didn’t exactly think to consider that the enemy line would have had their own explosives. So, when the gunfire blazed up and TNT exploded, Junkrat had gone with it.

That day, Junkrat had painfully lost an arm and a leg, passing out between explosives and seeing his bodyguard fend off their foes enough to get the two the hell outta dodge.

When Junkrat had come to, he knew without even feeling the full pains in his missing limbs that Roadhog had saved his life. He knew the process would be slow and meticulous as Junkrat watched his bodyguard nurse him back to health for months without a complaint, well, unless you count telling the loud junker to ‘shut up’ now and then as a complaint. Hell, Roadhog even helped to find the injured man some parts to make a new arm and a leg!

Sure, the peg leg still stings like a bitch when used too much and Junkrat cursed more often than not over losing his balance for the first few months on that creaky little thing, but they managed.

_ And _ , Junkrat managed to fall for Roadhog, somehow through all this. It must have been in between having Roadhog take complete care of him while Junkrat was out of commission and seeing his bodyguard’s face for the first time when his pain became too much and the big lug had taken off his mask, introducing a pain-reliever called Hogdrogen that Junkrat breathed in. 

Though, despite the rather begrudging realization of his true feelings months after achieving parts of his mechanical arm and leg, Junkrat never actually planned on telling Roadhog. Hell, the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. What the two of them had was nice, a friendship had started between them, turning their sex extravaganzas into just Friends with Benefits rather than a need to get rid of sexual frustration. Junkrat would have never, should have  _ never _ , told Roadhog of his feelings. Never, but he still did.

As revenge for taking away Junkrat’s leg and arm, the demolition duo had tracked down the rival gang and destroyed them. And, in a celebratory fashion that only the two of them could achieve, fucked right then and there against Roadhog’s motorcycle. Despite the blood and dirt clinging to their skin, of sweat and stench, neither found the energy to care. It was then, in the heat of the moment underneath the overbearing sun and between their skin that Junkrat blurted out a quick, almost silent, “I love you.”

The world stopped, Roadhog with it, his body seized in ice as he froze above the smaller junker. Junkrat’s heart sank, his mind running a million miles a minute. Junkrat thought his world was going to end, face paling significantly as his eyes filled with a horrid regret. He swallowed thickly, breathing staggered as his ears started heating up in embarrassment. He shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have,  _ shouldn’t have. _ But all Roadhog did was stare at him. Junkrat couldn’t read Roadhog, couldn’t begin to delve into the man’s thoughts. What used to be so easy for him after nearly a year and a half of knowing each other had now become a mystery. The man was a statue, stiff inside him and unwavering.

And then he  _ moved _ , stuttering only a moment before moving to a fierce pace, pounding deep into the smaller man. Junkrat cried out both from the surprise pain and the oncoming pleasure. He couldn’t speak, voice fucking up at this moment as tears started to pool in his eyes. Regret and hopelessness boiled deep within him as Roadhog finished quickly and without a word. Junkrat quivered violently in the aftermath, eyes still teary and face pale. 

He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Roadhog lifted his mask hastily, exposing his chapped, scarred lips. Junkrat couldn’t forget them, eyes glued on them. He watched as the giant leaned in close and, without a word, placed a chaste kiss to the smaller man’s lips, stunning Junkrat in silence. They had never shared a kiss during these moments, the motion having felt taboo. It was a way for them not to develop any feelings, something that Junkrat had apparently elected to ignore. 

He’d never been good at following rules anyway.

And because he wasn’t good at following the rules, Junkrat couldn’t keep his eyes off the older man’s lips. He watched in bated breath as it pulled back a bit and sighed. With his tears now dried, Junkrat leaned in but stopped short. For a moment, the two breathed in each other, scent full of musk, blood, and ash. He was never a patient man, couldn’t handle the wait.

Junkrat placed a hand between their sweaty bodies and moved to place a short, shy kiss onto those lips, testing the waters. He meant to pull away, to see the damage he’d caused but Roadhog pressed in closer and, before they knew it, they were all over each other again. But, this time… this time was full of a newfound passion.

By the end of it, Junkrat was on cloud nine. But in his life, he’s found that good things don't last.

What had transpired that day had consequently become an unspoken thing between them. Neither was willing to discuss the way their hands had explored the other with a newfound need to _ know  _ the other or how their kisses were filled with a sense of duty, a need to  _ feel  _ each other. Things kept escalating between them, not  _ just  _ during sex. They would find themselves closer to the other while crowded around nightly fires. Roadhog had easily excused it as simply keeping the warmth between them. Their hands would brush against one another as if they were drawn to one another. The desperation for keeping each other alive had somehow escalated. What used to just be a duty and a paid job was now something completely different.

And when their eyes would linger on each other for far too long, Junkrat knew that there should be something more between them.

But he had doubts as he always did. It was the doubt that Roadhog felt the same as the younger junker, that he couldn’t possibly love Junkrat. He had to know that his bodyguard turned crush was with him to the end. So, in a split moment’s decision, Junkrat gave his companion the location of where his hidden and mighty treasure was. And, for some time, he wasn’t sure if Roadhog would one day kill him and fuck off to the other side of Australia for the treasure. 

But he never did - Roadhog stayed with him.

After this pitfall, the two spend their next bout of action holed up in an abandoned home no longer sustainable but good for the night. It hadn’t been a choice to stay the night but an urgency. The duo simply couldn’t keep out of the line of fire, Junkrat especially. His body weak and bloody, Junkrat goes into shock, twitching before going still. Roadhog dives into action, setting the junker down on a table that was still somehow standing in the abandoned building.

“Fuck.” He naturally curses, pulling off the straps on his mask before tugging it tightly on his employer’s face. Roadhog reaches for a can of Hogdrogen and places it into its spot but Junkrat wasn’t breathing. He growls in frustration, setting a single large hand on the small chest that wasn’t moving. The large man started pumping his hand up and down on Junkrat’s chest, watching his body for any movements.

Roadhog was getting a little bit frantic, “C’mon, Rat, breathe.” He gritted his teeth, clasping both hands together and pressing harder down. “Rat, I swear, if you-” He stopped himself before even finishing his statement. The large man continued for a few more seconds, getting more and more distressed with each passing moment. “Jamison, fuck, c’mon,” Roadhog growled out. “I…” He paused, staring at the unmoving body. “I  _ love  _ you.” It was a whisper, a moment of vulnerability before Junkrat suddenly started twitching.

The feisty blond sucked in a breath, taking deep and panicked intakes. Junkrat’s hand flew to the mask, making sure it was stuck to him and wouldn’t come off, the Hodgrogen his only lifeline. “R-Roadie?” He questioned with a wheezy breath.

Roadhog laid a hand on the man’s hair, combing through it lightly, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Roight, mate, g-gotcha.” Junkrat wheezed, the two of them falling into silence. His body and mind exhausted, the explosion-expert falls into a fitful sleep.

He awoke later to the sound of pattering outside, a sign that it was raining that dreaded acid. Junkrat searched his area, seeing the windows boarded so the harrowing winds wouldn’t bring the acid rain indoors. A groan of pain left him as he searched for his bodyguard. Junkrat found him without much prompting. Roadhog was facing away from him sitting on a car engine that had somehow made it into the building.

Junkrat left him to his own thoughts, lying back against their limited supply of blankets placed precariously on the floor as there was no other furniture than the table he’d been on earlier. He took a deep breath, rubbing the spot where Roadhog’s beefy hands had been trying to bring him back with some botched CPR. Sure, he hurt like hell all over and he was still sticky with blood and dirt, but that was okay because he was alive. And that’s all that mattered. Well…

Junkrat turned towards his bodyguard again who looked like he was pretending to be a statue. Something lingered in the back of his head like all things do when he’s forgotten something very important. He laid there and thought long and hard on it but couldn't come up with anything, for now. The junker looked at Roadhog again, looking at his back when it clicked.

"You love me?" His voice was soft and sluggish but it was loud enough to make Roadhog tense.

"Hm."

"You love me." He repeated, moving to sit up hastily. He bit back a hiss of pain, clutching his side and working on settling his poor breathing. Roadhog turned around at this, moving to close the distance between them before gently pushing his charge to lay back down but Junkrat was having none of it. He grabbed the man's hands, stopping his movements. “Roadie.” Junkrat looked up, deep into the eyes of the mask, "Do you love me?"

But he didn't say anything, the man frozen to the spot.

"I  _ heard  _ you." He whispered out, feeling his eyes burn. Junkrat grit his teeth, his pain a bit more evident now as he breathed out hard. He moved to lay back down, head swimming as he stared at the ceiling. “Don’t play with me feelings, mate. Just…” He mulled over his words, “if you do, could you just… gah, I don’t know.” Roadhog could see the frustration starting to leak into his charge, blending in hazardously with exhaustion.

"You almost died," Roadhog stated, voice wavering at the end. Junkrat looked at him and stared incredulously. "You need rest, Rat."

Junkrat paused for only a moment before rolling over, escaping the eyes of his bodyguard as a tear slipped down his face. "Just fuck off with the map." He mumbled out, not meaning to say it with such a bitter bite, "You don't need me anymore, you have the treasure... it's right there, go get it."

"Rat." 

"I'm tired of you playing with me feelings,  _ mate _ ! And I'm tired of pinning after you even if I didn’t  _ mean  _ to ‘cause now you got me fucked up and all I want is you but you don't want me.” He rushed out, throwing his hands out in front of him, “And you want to know something, Roadie?! That's  _ okay _ ‘cause you have the map and you can fuck off with it!" His eyes welled with tears. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to say it but he was hurt. 

"Rat, look at me.” Roadhog tried.

“No.”

“ _ Rat _ .” Junkrat didn’t say anything to that, ignoring the tone Roadhog used when calling out to him and instead pushed himself even farther away from the large man. The older junker wasn’t having it, moving to turn his charge towards him. “Look at  _ me _ .”

Junkrat’s eyes landed on the mask, eyes still wet. “ _ What _ ?!”

Roadhog paused for only a second, moving to take his mask off. The younger man watched with bated breath, always amazed every time he sees his elusive bodyguard’s face, even when he’s mad at him. Without his mask on, his words were clear as day, “I… I  _ do  _ love you, Jamison.”

Junkrat froze, eyes wide before letting his tears fall, remorse deep within him falling apart to the overbearing relief washing over him.

And, on that lone night under the acid rain, they’d gotten together officially.

They spent another two years together in the Australian Outback before deciding that they’d had enough of the orange horizons and the lack of profitable living. They wanted more and you can’t exactly get that unless you’re fucking off in a different country. So, they left via boat, thoughts of heists and robberies filling their minds with prospects of riches and fun.

The boat they’d taken from Sydney, Australia, the only functioning city left in the entire damn continent, took them to Japan. It took them several weeks to get there by their slow-moving boat and they graciously accepted the fresh non-sea air, but they didn’t stay on the island too long. They made a quick steal of some food, money, clothes, supplies, and stole another boat to the mainland.

They had liked Japan for its food and aesthetic but it was  _ very  _ small, too small for Junkrat who bordered on being 6’6” and his giant bodyguard standing proud at 7’3”. Japan’s population was rather small, most almost being about 5’2” so all their buildings were made for much smaller people, making the tall men feel quite cramped. Roadhog and Junkrat hadn’t stayed long, but they promised to come back after the worldwide heist that they were slowly planning now that they had more resources.

The heists themselves were wild, crazy, adrenaline-racing chaos that the two started to thrive off. The media attention was a bit much on their part, but the bounty on their heads just kept increasing every day. Stealing the Crown Jewels and some several million dollars worths in jewelry when they’d landed in England was the height of their lives. Junkrat had been planning on that specific height for nearly two months since Japan and they’d enacted perfectly. Their original escape plan had been fooled by the police but what matters is that they’d escaped, barely, and had found a remote looking building in Norway that would grant them some cover for a little bit. Junkrat was going through their finds before stumbling across something truly peculiar.

There were two rings beside each other, both gold with intricate designs. It took him a minute to fully realize what  _ type  _ of rings they were.

Wedding rings.

Junkrat could feel his face starting to grow flush as he reached for the pair of jewelry. He held them in his dirty hands with care, as if they would break if he even remotely put any pressure on it. The junker watched them shine brightly in the light, turning them over in his hands to inspect the detail on them. Junkrat turned towards his bodyguard-turned-boyfriend who was fixing his motorcycle after the last heist. He hesitated for only a second before pulling a big grin, “Oi, Roadie.” 

"Hn?"

"Mind if I ask ya somethin’?” He inquired, putting the question off until the last moment. Even behind the mask, Junkrat could  _ feel  _ the incredulous look being sent his way. “Roight, roight, gotcha - get to the point.” He laughed aloud, “How do ya feel ‘bout marriage, Roadie?” The junker held the rog rings over his eyes as he stared at the frozen hog.

Roadhog scoffed, shaking his head as if bemused by the question. He leaned against his motorcycle, “Rat.”

“Hm?” Junkrat blinked rapidly, visibly shaking in anticipation.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" He huffed out, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

Junkrat jumped to his feet, hobbling over to the larger man, "Would you?" His voice was soft, cupping the small rings in the palms of his hands. 

"Yes," Roadhog stated without even a moment of thought.

Junkrat gave an excited squeal, beaming up at his fiance. Roadhog’s ears listened to the junker cackle loudly, bounding about the room. “I don’t think either these rings would fit out fingers, but I’m sure we could put them on chains or somethin’!” Junkrat called out, running around to find a chain from their heist pile. 

"Hm," Roadhog grunted, turning back to his bike. He could feel his ears burning, face and neck hot. He paused for only a moment, looking to his… fiance hobbling off to attach the rings to a chain for each of them. The large man huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he got back to work. 

That night, after the jewelry had been sorted and the bike had been fixed, the two junkers laid beside each other on the bare mattress. Junkrat looked into his fiance’s eyes, the mask gone for the moment. He fumbled with the chain in his hand, “I had to combine two chains ‘cause I didn’t think those itty bitty ones from the store would have fit yer neck, mate.” The junker mumbled, sliding the chain around his fiance’s neck, the duel colors of gold and silver chains clashing on the man’s chest. “I tried to find matching ones, but I didn’t have much luck.” Junkrat paused for only a moment before putting on his own.

Roadhog leaned in, placing a chaste kiss on the man’s forehead. “Don’t matter.” He hummed out, moving to position himself above the smaller junker. He watched as Junkrat’s attention kept dividing itself between the chained ring hanging above his face and the man’s lips.

“Ya know, Roadie, the ‘honeymoon phase’ usually happens  _ after  _ the wedding, but I think I could let this slide for you.” Junkrat rushed out, hands already pawing at his fiance’s muscles on his arms.

Roadhog laughed deeply, the noise doing something for the smaller junker. “We’re not traditional.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Junkrat laughed, tugging on his fiance, “Now come here, ya big lug!” Roadhog swooped in, diving into an awaiting heated kiss. He smiled, “Ya know, Roadie, I could get used to this.”

Roadhog shared the smile, kissing his fiance again to prove that he agreed as well.

This was nice.

Their ‘wedding’ date was planned for their next heist. They planned to ‘get hitched’ on the back of Roadhog’s motorcycle while running from the cops, stopping only for a second at the Register of Deeds to pick up a marriage license. Junkrat wasn’t sure what that was, but apparently, it made everything official in the eyes of the law and if that made their marriage ‘official’ then Junkrat was willing to spot for it.

Honestly, the easiest heist of their life compared to their Crown Jewels engagement heist.

Junkrat, who’d brought it up very briefly on their engagement night, had decided that after they’d gotten hitched that the two of them needed to go on an official honeymoon since they were doing a lot of official things now. Roadhog, not one to damper the man’s excitement… this time around, decided to go along with it.

“To Japan!” Junkrat announced the night they’d crossed the continent towards the coast where they’d taken a boat to the island. Roadhog just shook his head as he steered the thing roughly where other boats were heading to the Japanese docks. The journey took a little less than a week, but it was worth it.

On their honeymoon, the two explored the bustling towns on the outskirts of the major cities. They kept out of Tokyo, despite how much Junkrat wanted to see the city. Roadhog shot the idea down as quickly as it came up, knowing that the larger city of Tokyo would know about the two of them. To keep their cover low, they kept to smaller towns and less populated areas. It didn’t, however, keep them from the infamous hot springs in the mountains.

Roadhog and Junkrat stayed there for a few nights, always enjoying a nice dip in the hot waters before going to bed for the night, sleeping up against each other with their wedding rings within reach. It was a peaceful time in the mountains, but they left when they thought the owner was getting a little suspicious of them. For the rest of their honeymoon, they enjoyed empty buildings, the Japanese nightlife, amazingly sweet food, and each other.

They spent nearly two weeks before deciding that they’d overstayed their welcome, traveling back to the larger countries in Asia, thinking of a heist in China to finish out the year.

It didn’t matter where the two went, so long as they had each other, every moment was enjoyable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that canonically speaking, Junkrat lost his arm and leg BEFORE meeting Roadhog in that bar as indicated from the comics. However, for the point of this narrative, it will have to go my way.
> 
> Other than that, I hoped you liked my first every Overwatch fanfiction! See you next time!


	2. Defying Death

Their honeymoon night in Japan, such a brief but impactful moment for the two were swept away quickly under the oppressive nature of their lives. For the next few years - three to be exact - Roadhog and Junkrat spent their time going on heist after heist every few months. Most were successful, the two running rampant, uncontested with riches and powers. They attacked and killed with grins on their faces and a laugh. However, more than not, Roadhog and Junkrat left their heists a little bit more bruised and battered. It was exhilarating, though, and got their blood pumping.

It was the life of adrenaline junkies, one they’d chosen for themselves. And they didn’t regret it one bit.

Well, that wasn’t until their first utter  _ failure  _ of a heist.

The job was supposed to be a simple in-and-out situation - get the cash and get  _ out _ , as Roadhog had put it to his husband before going in. The duo should’ve  _ known  _ that there was something fishy about how easy the heist was - the lack of guards that evening, no weird locks or lasers blocking their gold. To put it bluntly, it was a trap. And the two had fallen for it, well, Junkrat mostly.  _ He  _ fell for it while writing out the plans for their next job…  _ but  _ Roadhog could have shut down the whole operation at any time.

So, yeah, the two fell for it.

Which left them in a bit of a pickle per se. There was no cell or life behind prison walls. The news? The death penalty was the word they used, but Junkrat liked to call it an ‘execution’ - that word seemed to it better for their situation. It would be filmed for the world to see, their deaths, showing just how the mighty have fallen, how the crazed demolition duo from the Outback would finally be taken care of once and for all, putting the public at rest. Although the news was slightly depressing, Roadhog and Junkrat knew that this was a possibility for the life they led. Sure, they wanted to live but, at least, they’d die together.

Which never actually happened, surprisingly. 

Their lives during the first four days they were in custody and prison had both Roadhog and Junkrat bouncing between interrogation rooms every few hours in the days following. They were kept separate due to how vicious the two got when together, something that irritated the married couple to no end - they weren’t even allowed in the same cell block. It was weird sleeping without someone you’ve been around for the last five years, leaving the two with bouts of insomnia.

The whole thing was a joke to them. Hell, the government couldn’t even decide a due date for their execution! And, because of that, they kept themselves entertained in the meantime.

They did their best to scare off lawyers and attack guards, laughing it off as if it were a joke. The guards who stood outside their cells had been swapped out more often than not, cycling through nearly two dozen operatives before Roadhog and Junkrat grew bored of it. The lawyers, on the other hand, were free game. They made sure their law-abiding ‘friends’ would see just how crazy the duo was.

Roadhog, for his part, sat motionless, aggravating even the most patient lawyers. Only when he had their attention on themselves and how annoyed they were feeling by a mute client was when he’d act out. Standing up abruptly and lunging. Only when the lawyer had fallen out of their chair and slid towards the wall, his chains catching him mid-attack, was when the large man would laugh, low and unapologetically. He’d watch the lawyer crawl out of the room, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Junkrat was the complete opposite. If anything, the lawyers couldn’t get him to  _ shut up _ ! He’d talked about anything and everything, evading their attention away from his wrongdoings. The younger junker would laugh and chortle at every minuscule thing, really selling the fact that he had more than a few screws loose in his head. Then, Junkrat would pause, the lawyer hanging off his every word by this point. And then he’d laugh, one deep in his chest, eyes leveling on the lawyer. The man would then depict what he’d do to the lawyer in extreme detail if he was free of his chains. Junkrat’s lawyer would, similar to his husband’s, leave shaking in his boots.

And if they laid awake in their cells for hours after the sun had gone underneath the horizon thinking of the times they’d spent together running rampant across the world, they didn’t mention it in the morning.

And if they were surprised when they saw each other in the  _ same  _ interrogation room, they sure as hell was vocal about it.

The guards had threatened them to keep quiet until their visitors had arrived, moving to cuff the two down. Thick metal cuffs came down on their hands and ankles, chaining them to the table and the floor respectfully. Junkrat snickered at that though, looking at his husband with a knowing smile who merely shook his head in response. 

The man could’ve broken those things in an instant but, without a solid plan on how to get out of this prison, Roadhog kept at bay, for his husband’s sake. Junkrat, instead, just kept giggling, as if it were the funniest thing on earth, eyes searching the man beside him while they waited on their visitors. Sure, the big lug looked  _ horrendous  _ in orange - something that was actually Junkrat’s personal favorite color - it was just nice to look at him, see him again for what felt like an eternity. He laughed at the sight of one thing, shaking his head in exasperation; Roadhog still had his mask on.

Speaking of Roadhog, the man would sneak peeks at the younger junker, evaluating if any harm had been done to his husband while he was absent from his side. Due to his size and overall scariness, Roadhog had been kept away from the courts outside and the cafeteria when other prisoners would mingle. It seemed to his eyes that the same could be said for Junkrat, which was a relief. This means he doesn’t have to go out of his way to find out who dealt the damage and kill them for touching his husband.

Their visitors entered the room abruptly, interrupting their thoughts. Junkrat rolled his eyes, hand coming to cup underneath his jaw, huffing in realization. More lawyers, two to be exact. The two lawyers in front of them were stoic, strong-looking, and unmoving, just remaining by the closed door. It reminded Junkrat of his husband, surprisingly. He looked up at the man, smiling softly despite himself. Roadhog shared the look underneath his mask.

The lawyers noticed the shared look between them but, surprisingly, said nothing. Since the demolition duo had been in the prison and the multitudes of interrogations they’d been given, almost all of the lawyers that had been in charge of defending the two had asked about the relationship the two shared - if it were a partnership or a  _ partnership _ . They never answered those types of questions, of course, because they were so busy trying to scare them off.

“So,” Junkrat started, waving a chained hand in a circle, “what’s up? Take a seat, why doncha?” He grinned maliciously. For their parts, the lawyers remained standing. The younger junker rolled his eyes, unamused, “Fine. Did yer mates out there finally decide a due date yet?” At the confused glance the lawyers gave each other, Junkrat chortled loudly. “An execution date!” He laughed, high-pitched and mocking. Though, he stopped just as abruptly as he started, an elbow hitting his side roughly. Junkrat pouted, looking up before sighing, “Ah, I gotcha, Roadie.”

The lawyers looked to themselves for an answer to the weird behavior the duo exhibited but decided against it. The older of the two cleared his throat, all attention on him. To Junkrat, the man looked about… roughly sixty? Maybe a few years younger, the junker decided. His hair was white and was cut close to his head. He looked put together, well, except his face which was a little rough around the edges, a few scars hardened by age. The lawyer beside him was a whole other story. He was younger, at least, younger than the other one with a mop of brown hair. He seemed like someone you’d find in the old cowboy movies with that stupid looking hat on his head. While Junkrat and Roadhog were used to the hat, as it was pretty common in the Outback, it didn’t mean that the two didn’t find the thing downright ugly. The missing hand - or arm, Junkrat couldn’t tell due to it being hidden underneath a suit - gave the younger man a look of someone used to combat.

Junkrat gave them a critical eye, searching their features again. These weren’t any  _ ordinary  _ lawyers if they even  _ were  _ lawyers. He was betting his money, all his confiscated money, on it. He could sense that his husband had similar thoughts from the way Roadhog shifted in his seat, to his shoulders looking a little broader, to the way his chest poked out more, and the way he tilted his head as if he were interested.

The older lawyer coughed again, waving a hand, “Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Francis Maurice and this is my colleague, Joshua McCann. We’ve been assigned to your case for the meantime due to your…  _ frequent  _ habit of running off the other ones.”

Junkrat laughed at that, surprised about how forward this lawyer was if he even  _ was  _ one. “Oh, that’s too bad” He grinned widely, snorting slightly, “They were growin’ on me.” He barked out a laugh.

“Yes, well, we’ve looked over your case and, may I say, your track record isn’t looking so good right now.” As if to further prove it, the older man pulled out a rather thick manila folder, combing his fingers through it meticulously but not focusing on it; it was for looking.

“Thanks.” The junker nodded, pleased by himself and his husband’s work.

Maurice blinked once, eyes focused solely on the only speaking junker, “I see.”

“Look,” The accent from the other ‘lawyer’ took Junkrat by surprise - guess he is a real cowboy, “if ya want to get out of this alive, then ya need to deny all acts of criminal intent.”

Junkrat rolled his eyes, sitting back as much as he can, “Yeah, should’ve said that before, mate. Me and Roadie already admitted to everythin' when they got us. Can’t take back nothing.”

The lawyers looked to one another again. McCann sighed, taking the manila folder from his colleague's hand and moving through it quickly. He stopped on a particular page, eyes scanning it for a minute before turning it around and sliding it over to Junkrat. “While we were hopin’ you lads hadn’t gotten ‘round to that point, we might have a way to get you out.” He explained loosely.

Junkrat slid the folder closer to himself, keeping an eye on the two closely before leaning over to his husband so he could get a look too. He looked at two sides for anything but saw nothing. His eyebrows furrowed, searching for this supposed ‘get-out-of-free’ jail card. He flipped up a few sticky notes and moved aside paperclips to look under other notations and papers before stopping. A single message is hidden underneath it all:

**We will get you out if you join us. - OW**

“Oh.”

A single word, just one that held so much more weight to it. To be honest, ‘oh’ was all he had to offer, sliding the papers and sticky notes back over the secret message, obscuring it to the cameras should any guards be looking  _ that  _ close. Junkrat closed the folder slowly, leaving it sitting on the table in front of him. It’s not hard to figure out who’s asking, he’s not  _ stupid _ . There’s only one acronym he’d grown to know that’s associated with the letters ‘O’ and ‘W’ -  _ Overwatch _ , the secret organization that had gone into hiding some odd years ago. And  _ now _ ? They were asking  _ them _ , of all people, to join their new criminal organization.

“Well, Roadie, whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout all this?” Junkrat asked, waving a hand over the folder, “Are we willin’ to let these lawyers help us?”

Roadhog, for his part, was speechless, well, more than he usually is. He took a slow breath, not deep, just slow, under the radar. His face felt hot under his mask, the one he’d fought the guards tooth-and-nail to keep on since they’d been arrested, the one that kept his identity secured under a veil of mystery. His head stayed in place, only his eyes moving downwards to look at his husband. At the sudden attention - he could practically  _ feel  _ it - Junkrat looked up, meeting his gaze head-on.

Junkrat’s look sent a message in the way he cocked his head, reiterating his earlier question. Roadhog though only lifted his head at the so-called ‘lawyers’ who they have  _ now  _ deduced as Overwatch agents. He wanted to see if his husband trusted their word because he certainly didn’t. The ‘lawyers’ could just be more government officials trying to weed their way into their psyche. The smaller junker, for his part, just nodded - it wasn’t like they had any better options. And Roadhog sighed deeply, knowing that Junkrat was right; they didn't have  _ any  _ options, just his botched up plan for escape that probably wouldn’t even  _ work _ .

They didn’t want to die - that’s something they both thought with their shoulders tight.

“So?” Junkrat asked once more, asking more for the two watching their odd movements and not because he didn’t understand his husband’s look. Roadhog looked at the so-called Maurice and McCann before nodding. The younger junker nodded as well, sliding the folder towards the ‘lawyers’. “We’ll play nice.” Junkrat grinned widely.

Maurice collected the folder, sliding it into a briefcase before standing. “We will be in contact.” McCann nodded towards their direction as the two left.

Junkrat just grinned, drumming his fingers against the metal table. “Roadie, when ya think it’ll happen?” He mumbled out.

“Not any time soon,” Roadhog grumbled as the guards came to collect them.

Not any time soon seemed to be that night. 

The Overwatch agents Maurice and McCann arrived along with another person, an older woman this time, under a veil of darkness and secrecy. The three came to collect them from the high-tech facility, decked out in clothes that kept their bodies hidden to witnesses. Guess they were really serious about the whole underground operations thing and keeping Overwatch out of the public’s eye. The three had somehow managed to bypass security cameras and use some special codes to help Roadhog and Junkrat break out of their cell without worrying about the electric fencing surrounding it. The demolition duo, not one to miss a chance when they see one, made a break for the evidence room, gathering up all their gear that the police had taken into custody upon their arrest. Roadhog and Junkrat met up with the Overwatch agents at an adjacent wall to the outside world, somehow stumbling upon each other.

Junkrat after jokingly slapping McCann’s shoulder for getting them out within the same day set his attention to the wall. He tapped the thing with his metal fist before reaching for his newly acquired concussion mine. “Stand back, I’m gonna blow this thing apart.” He called out, watching as the agents scrambled away. He simply sidestepped the wall, plugging his ears with a wide grin before setting off the explosive. The man was about to race to the exit before he realized that the jail kept them high up in the air. “Well, what now,  _ dipsticks _ ?!” His words were said with a bite, directed at the Overwatch agents as he backed away from the hole and towards the safety of his husband.

The woman pressed a finger to her ear, “We need an evac on the Southern wall. You can’t miss us.” There was talk on the other side but the others couldn’t hear them.

Roadhog readied his hook and gun, moving his husband to stand behind him as he faced the hallway in front of him where the guards would be there soon enough. “Stay.” He ground out.

“‘Course, mate.” Junkrat, for his part, crouched low to the ground facing towards the wall. The three Overwatch agents gave him looks, but looked away at the amount of C4 he was clawing out of his back pocket. He pressed together fuses and the putty-like substance into a mess on the wall. “Back up, a lil’.” The junker called out to the Overwatch agents, watching them take cautious steps backward. 

“What are you doin’?” McCann questioned.

“Makin’ sure they ain’t gonna be followin’ us after our  _ great  _ escape!” His voice tapered off at the end into a laugh.

Maurice stiffened, “You’re going to blow them up?”

“I mean, whatcha expect me to do, mate?” Junkrat stared up at the older man, exasperated, “Lie here and look  _ pretty _ ?” He stuck his tongue out in a mock ‘I’m dead’ face, making a ‘blegh’ sound to go with it. Roadhog, at least, thought it was funny, snorting at his husband’s words. That didn’t fail to get a grin out of the younger junker.

Footsteps were coming their way, all attention on the hallway again; they’d be at the group's location any minute now. “How much longer?” The female agent asked into her communications unit.

“Give me a minute.” The voice called back, the quiet atmosphere letting it be heard by the others.

Junkrat, for his part, seemed to work faster at the noise, trailing a tripwire to the adjacent wall and connecting it to a fuse with even  _ more  _ explosives. “Alroight, mates, if they even  _ think  _ to follow us out that hole, then they got somethin’ else comin’ to ‘em.” He nodded at his handiwork, moving to tap his husband’s back, “Oi, Roadie?”

“Hm?”

“When you back out, watch your ankles.” The man called out. Roadhog gave a curt nod, stiffening as the first guard appeared down the hallway.

“There they are!” The man shouted out, waving a hand as more soon joined them.

The first shot that sounded out didn’t belong to the prison. That right was reserved for the one and only One Man Apocalypse, Roadhog himself, his scrap gun sizzling from the hot metal expelled from it. Junkrat let out a wolf whistle, laughing at the guard who fell over, dead, just a red smear on the dirtied prison floors. A firefight soon ensued after the shot.

As it turned out, Maurice and McCann know what they're doing. The shots they took were calculated, estimating the amount of ammunition they’d need to fend the guards off. The prison wardens had brought shield fending off the initial battering of the Overwatch agents attacks. However, two battering attacks from Roadhog’s gun was enough to send the shields to the scrap yard. They kept advancing though, ready to take on the group of five even without their shields.

Which proved to be fatal.

The guards were close enough now that Junkrat swept in beside his husband, stepping over his tripwire. “Roadie, duck!” He shouted out, seeing his husband fall. The younger junker threw a swift concussion mine, laughing as he saw it soar over the enemy’s heads, watching as their eyes widened. They tried scrambling away from the explosive, but it was too late. Junkrat grinned devilishly, “Kaboom!” The room lit up in flames as the explosion ensued, sending bodies flying. He giggled loudly, excited eyes staring at his husband who only lifted his hand for a thumbs-up.

The Overwatch agents themselves had mixed reactions to the demolition duo upon seeing them in action up close. Most were disgust by their pure enjoyment in the deaths of others. There was a bit of awe, though, seeing just how well the two worked but it was overshadowed by the howling maniacal laugh from Junkrat and Roadhog’s overall scary aura.

A sudden piercing shot sounded off in the hallway, aimed at the younger junker. What should have killed the man was merely blocked by Roadhog’s arm. He pulled his husband back behind him, growling out, “You should’ve listened to me.”

“‘Course, matey, sorry.” He mumbled out, eyes glancing at the bullet wound. He’d be fine, Junkrat told him, firing off a few rounds from his frag launcher at the new group of guards.

“Everybody!” The female agent shouted out, getting their attention, “Our ride had arrived!” As if to prove her point, a black jet uncloaked itself right outside of the hole Junkrat had provided for them earlier. A ledge was slowly pushed out from the side of the jet for them just, a door opening from the inside.

Maurice and McCann moved back towards the hole, waving for the demolition duo to jump out first. “We’ll cover your six!” The former man shouted out. 

Roadhog gave a curt nod to the two. He hopped over his husband’s explosive work, taking a few bullets to the back but not stopping as he grabbed Junkrat on his way out. “Hey!” The younger junker shouted out as he was slung over Roadhog’s shoulder. As fast as he could, the large man ran to the hole before jumping out of it. It was a leap of faith, a scary one that is, one that had Junkrat letting out a panicked screech. But lo and behold, Roadhog managed, falling onto the cold, hard metal of the ledge provided for them. He squeezed inside the rather small jet, setting down his husband. 

Junkrat took a deep breath, “Little much, ya big lug. You good?”

Roadhog didn’t say anything, moving to the opened door where he saw the woman jumping out next. Her eyes briefly widened when her foot landed wrong, slipping on the ledge but was caught by the older junker. “Thank you.” She nodded her head at him as Roadhog pulled her inside fully.

“Hm.” He answered

“Are you alright, Ana?” Another woman’s voice called out from the pilot’s seat.

“I’m alright, nothing I haven’t experienced before.” She grumbled out, moving out of the way.

Roadhog continued held his right hand to the frame of the door, leaning out as he hooks an unsuspecting guard. He pulled the man towards him and out of the hole, watching as the man started to gush with blood. He let out a piercing growl, knocking the man off the ledge with a good shake of two of his hook. This allowed for the other two Overwatch agents to make way for the ledge, getting a helpful hand from Roadhog.

“Take off, Lena!” Maurice called out, the doors to the jet shutting slowly, the sound of gunfire hitting the side of it, “We need to get out of sight immediately.”

“Understood, sir!” The pilot saluted before turning back to the controls.

Immediately as they pulled away from the hole, the trap Junkrat set went off. Said junker’s attention was pulled to the window, watching the carnage he left start to eat away at the building. “Now that’s what I call a trap!” He giggled, watching the prison disappear into the horizon.

“You boys made the right choice joining us.” Ana, as she was now known by, stated, moving to sit on one of the benches in the jet, “I just hope that you two will learn to behave.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, sheila?” Junkrat lifted his nose at that. Roadhog, who was now standing beside him again, elbowed the younger man, grabbing his attention. He searched his husband’s mask, looking deep into the eye sockets before it finally clicked. “Ah, roight.” He waved a hand, “Overwatch probably has some rules. And we got to follow ‘em, roight?”

“Yes,” She nodded, “but we will get to that soon enough, maybe not tonight, but soon.”

Junkrat paused, looking between the now  _ four  _ Overwatch agents. “Ya know,” He started, “I don’t exactly get  _ why  _ ya bunch decided two of us junkers were worth yer while.”

“We’ve been scouting recruits for a while now. You two were, frankly, at the bottom of our list.” Maurice explained heavily, standing like a soldier, “However, before we could decide the best time to recruit you, the two of you decided that getting arrested was a good idea.”

“Oi, it was an accident!” Junkrat barked out, pointing an accusing finger, “We could do that heist any night and get it. We just… weren’t on our game that night.”

“You  _ failed _ .” Maurice continued. The younger junker could feel his blood boiling, but a large hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying anything else. 

McCann, for his part, looked partly apologetic for the older man’s behavior before he spoke next, “It was easy gettin’ into the prison, though, and even easier gettin’ you out so… let’s just call this a win, lads?”

“Fine,” Junkrat grumbled out, shaking his husband’s hand off his shoulder. He was still a little mad about being caught in the first place, but it was water under the bridge now - they were free. He moved to sit down, watching his husband take a seat with him.

Maurice stood a bit taller at that, pacing a few steps before stopping, “We will get you settled into a room at our base when we land but a debriefing of Overwatch and how we operate will be done as soon as possible. Do you understand?” He got a nod at that. “Overwatch is not a play place. Since our reactivation has started, all things run through  _ me _ \- equipment, jobs, reports,  _ everything _ .” He explained heavily, “This is not another one of your heists. If I so much as suspect you of doing more harm than good, I will put you back in that prison and I will see to your execution date as soon as possible.” Maurice directed the comment at Junkrat, a ‘there’s-your-execution-date’ jab.

“Wow, way to make everythin’ sound depressin’, mate.” Junkrat grumbled before rolling his eyes, “We get ya, yeah? No bad, only good. Gotcha.”

“I’m serious.” He grounded out, teeth gritted.

“And so am I.” He leveled Maurice with a glare.

Ana sighed heavily on the sidelines, “Jack, it’s late, leave them alone for the night. We can save this after we’re all rested and fed. Maybe even some medical attention.” Her eyes sought out Roadhog who only grumbled something.

Junkrat patted his husband’s arm, “He’ll be fine, always is. Roight, mate? Just a lil’ Hodrogen an’ you’ll be good as new!”

Ana’s eyes furrowed, “Hodrogen?” The two shut up very quickly after that, not that Roadhog was speaking, that is. She lifted a hand, a thin smile on her face, “It’s alright. I won’t push, but at least let me look at those wounds. I might have some poor bandage work, but I know a bad wound when I see one.” Her words were soft, caring.

Roadhog simply shook his head, rummaging through his pocket for a second. Ana and the two men watched as he pulled out a container, one only a little smaller than his hand. He attached it to the side of his mask and inhaled deeply. The Overwatch agents watched in shock as bullets and blood pushed out from his wounds before healing completely. Afterward, Roadhog disconnected the container of Hogdrogen and threw it to the ground.

Junkrat grinned, “See good as new.”

Ana shook her head, merely chuckling, “Of course.” She settled into her seat, kicking her legs up on a box in the jet that more than likely had extra ammunition in it should the Overwatch agents have needed it. “I’m sure you two would like something other than prison food when we land.” She stated.

“Uh… yeah, if ya don’t mind?” Junkrat tilted his head slightly in question, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’ll see if we can find something for you both when we land.” Her smile was kind, reassuring almost, “On one condition.”

He internally groaned, resisting the urge to swipe a hand down his face, “Yeah?”

“Share a cup of tea with me.” Ana waved a hand, chuckling at his obvious annoyance, “I’ll go over some things about the base and help you boys to your rooms afterward.”

Junkrat laughed, thinking the ‘catch’ was going to be something like “Hand over all your weapons” or “You’ll have to live in chains”. Instead, he just grinned, “Why not?” Yep, Ana was now dubbed his favorite among the agents he’d already met. She was honest, something you don’t get a lot from people, especially when you grew up in the Outback. If the time came and Junkrat and Roadhog had to escape Overwatch, he’d make sure she didn’t have a single hair on her head  _ touched _ .

McCann looked to Ana, “Mind if I join ya? Soldier here got me before lunch.”

“Of course, Jesse, you know I don’t mind the company.” Her elderly features softened.

Roadhog shifted slightly, only a mild sounding creak coming from the metal. Junkrat looked between the Overwatch agents before leaning against the larger man. He was starting to feel a twinge of exhaustion whether it was from their adrenaline-rushing escape or just due to the time of night. The younger junker wrapped a hand around Roadhog’s arm, playing with the hairs on the top of it. His husband looked down at him in mild amusement, letting out a low laugh.

“Shut up…” Junkrat grumbled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Roadhog said back, shifting in his seat once more, trying to get a bit more comfortable.

He let out a playful growl, continuing to play with his arm, “But ya were  _ thinkin’  _ ‘bout it, mate.” Roadhog shook his head, bemused, but dropped it. Junkrat looked up, making eye-contact with Ana who only smiled at him - seems like she was the only one who noticed. He glanced away before she could say anything, fixed his gaze on Roadhog’s giant stomach tattoo instead as his eyes fluttered slightly.

Maybe this whole Overwatch thing won’t suck  _ too  _ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer than the previous as we are starting to delve more into their married life. I do hope you liked this chapter, despite the fact that the ending is a little... eh? Ya know? Thanks for reading though!


	3. Tea Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter took a bit longer to write. I had some complications in my life that kept building up, taking my time away from this chapter. My mom had some bad abdominal pain that was revealed to be gallstones, so I took care of her for a few days as they passed. And, you're not going to believe this, but then my area had fucking tornadoes. Tornadoes!!! We've never had a tornado in my area so it came as a shock, really. The tornado did some damage to my roof and stopped internet and power access in my area for a few day. Then, to top it all off, I had a sudden bout of writer’s block, sorry. But, here I am, with a new chapter for you all! I sincerely hope you liked it!

The air was quiet as the jet flew under a thick veil of cloud cover, the sun only just starting to rise on the horizon. By now, dawn was just minutes away, awaiting to shower the horizon in lush oranges and pinks. No one spoke much throughout the flight, a lull being pulled over them in their haze of exhaustion from their late-night escapade. While Lena, Maurice, and Roadhog had stayed awake throughout the ride, the rest of their group snoozed lightly in the jet, huddling against its metal walls uncomfortably.

Junkrat, for his part, was used to sleeping in rather uncomfortable areas and rested easily compared to the others, snoring quietly with his arm still loosely looped in with his husband’s. His head was tilted down close to Roadhog’s belly, his slightly ajar mouth creating a line of drool. His husband didn’t seem to mind being drooled on or being used as a pillow. Well, at least he didn’t  _ look  _ like he minded much as the man didn’t seem to speak much. Instead, the giant of a man just sat there like a statue, overlooking the people in the group and keeping an eye out for the sleeping junker.

All of a sudden, the jet started rocking violently. The abrupt bout of turbulence jogged those dozing out of their slumber almost immediately. Junkrat startled awake and, for only the briefest of moments, he couldn’t remember where he was or who the people in front of him were. He didn’t even have to register the panic starting to creep up his throat; he just  _ knew  _ that it would happen. In his panic, the younger junker’s chipped and dirty fingernails dug deep into Roadhog’s arm as the jet continued to shake violently, random noises coming from the cockpit. The older man, now alerted to his husband’s plight, simply moved to pat Junkrat’s thigh twice. It was a code they’d developed over the years that things were alright, that they were  _ safe _ .

It helped,  _ really _ , Junkrat’s panic disappearing almost as fast as it had arrived. Though, if his heart continued to hammer in his chest, he didn’t mention it.

“Gosh, sorry about that, loves.” The pilot, Lena, if the junkers remembered right, turned her head around in her seat. Her face was polite and apologetic as the turbulence finally slowed to a stop, glancing around her jet for any injuries that might have been sustained during the instance. When she saw none, Lena turned back to the empty skies highlighted in oranges and pinks. “We’ll be arriving at the base in about thirty minutes.” She announced after a brief moment of silence, messing with some of the controls.

Ana nodded at her words, shaking herself to wake up completely. She placed her feet back on the floor of the jet, trying to get some feeling back in them after having them propped up on that box for so long. The older woman stretched quietly, a few cracks coming from her back. “I bet you boys are ready to get off this piece of metal, am I right?” Her words were directed at the junkers.

“Mhm.” Junkrat hummed at her words, mind still a little groggy. He detached himself from his husband’s arm carefully and leaned forward. His back was aching after sitting up for so long. The junker twisted his spine a few times, allowing the cracks and pops to fill the space before positioning his hands around his head and cracking his neck joints. Of the Overwatch agents who watched him move, only Ana and McCann looked a little startled when he’d done that as if expecting Junkrat to snap his neck. He chuckled at that, moving onto his aching hand, cracking his fingers joints before working up to his shoulders for extra measures.

He settled back against his husband, stretching his prosthetic arm and hearing it squeak in protest. Junkrat cringed at the sound, inspecting the damage. The prosthetics themselves hadn’t been damaged at all in their escape, but they were a little squeaky. He hadn’t had the chance to do any of his maintenance checks since their failed heist. As for the nubs underneath the hunks of metal, Junkrat knew he was a little screwed. The poor little nubs felt like they were on fire if he had to be honest to himself, the sore and scarred tissue suddenly  _ way  _ too sensitive for his liking. When they landed and got settled into their ‘new home’, Junkrat would make sure to take some time to check on his arm and leg nubs to make sure nothing was wrong with them.

If he thought he was worse off, he might even borrow one of Overwatch’s doctors - because  _ of course,  _ Overwatch would have doctors - and he would make them fix his injured nubs. Junkrat paused in his musings, physically shaking his head. He got a look from his husband but that was it. No way in  _ hell _ would Junkrat let a doctor get close to him again, absolutely not. They’d hurt him again, over and over and  _ over _ -

There were two pats on his thigh again. Junkrat looked up, staring deep into the deep depth that was his husband’s mask.  _ “You good?”  _ The look sent his way asked. He sighed deeply, leaning into the bigger man’s warmth before running a hand through his hair. It was as much of a ‘maybe’ as Roadhog was going to get. His husband patted his leg again, more for reassurance than anything and all Junkrat could do was smile.

He would be fine, Junkrat told himself, looking up at the metal ceiling of the jet. He counted the bolts and screws there idly before someone called his name. Junkrat looked away from the ceiling towards the voice, a concerned Ana looking at him. Her olden eyes were narrowed, curiosity and worry staring right back at him. “Hm?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” She asked quietly, but just loud enough to gauge everyone’s reaction. Maurice eyed the junker critically while McCann simply stared between the junkers and the woman.

He waved a hand, dismissing the three of them, “M’fine, just a little tired, worn out. Sore, kind of.” The last bit was uttered as an afterthought.

“I see.” Ana nodded, “Maybe we save the tea after you’ve both rested a bit.”

Junkrat pondered for a moment. He  _ had  _ enjoyed the tea in Japan when he and Roadhog went for their honeymoon but, on the other hand, he was also  _ incredibly  _ exhausted and his poor limbs were practically screaming at him. But, he has enjoyed Ana’s presence so far. He shook his head, smiling more to himself, “One cup of tea, food, and then I’m goin’ to bed. Ya got that, sheila?”

The older woman grinned, “Of course.”

“Can everyone take a seat and put on your seatbelts?” Lena asked from the front, “We’ll be landing soon.” Everyone moved to follow the woman’s directions except the junkers who didn’t care for seatbelts. It wouldn’t have mattered, even if they  _ had  _ wanted to wear them. Roadhog can’t fit into the tiny seatbelts provided on the jet and Junkrat wasn’t very good about the whole safety thing. Instead, he clung to his husband’s arm once more as the jet landed swiftly on the landing strip. The landing was a little rough, but they managed.

Within the next few minutes, everyone was ushered off the jet, Lena stretching and hopping around before saying, “I’ll empty the jet of the stuff later but, for now, I’m going to go lie down for now.” She grinned, looking to Maurice for confirmation of her early morning plans. He nodded, waving her off. Everyone watched her dart off with a little more enthusiasm and energy than anyone else had.

“I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me. I need to write a report to log the mission.” Maurice mouthed off, nodding to the other two Overwatch agents before looking at the junkers, “Don’t get into any trouble.”

Junkrat raised both his eyebrows, “Gotcha, mate.” With that, Maurice disappeared.

Ana started to walk off as well, “Come on, now, we’ve got things to eat and tea to drink.” The three men followed her into the building. 

The smaller junker couldn’t help but look sporadically at his new environment. While it was certainly better than any part of the prison that held the demolition duo, it wasn’t as grand as some of the suites they’d hide in with their lavish profits. The walls were variations of whites, grays, and, oh wow, more  _ white _ . It was pristine, clean and Junkrat wasn’t a big fan of…  _ that _ . Living in the Outback meant getting used to filth and, since he’d practically been raised in the orange dirt and between the dust and smoke of his bombs, Junkrat  _ thrived  _ in his filth.

But now? He was a little self-conscious. Junkrat tried not to let this get to him as they traveled through corridors and hallways. He observed the walls and took the turns and curves to memory, sort of. Sometimes his memory had holes, but he’d managed. After a second, Junkrat noticed not many people were out and about in this base but, then it clicked. He could have slapped his head. It was six or seven in the morning. The only people up would be people with jobs or… old people? He didn’t actually know who’d be up this early.

Ana led their group to a decently sized kitchen. In the middle was an island counter with three bar stools underneath the lip. There was an open doorway that held more seating with about five tables, four chairs to each table. It was like a little restaurant, Junkrat noted, amused. She turned towards them, motioning to the other room. “Why don’t you boys go take a seat in there? I’ll put a pot on and order some pizza.” She said, “Is pepperoni okay with everyone?” With the nods sent her way, Ana watched them off before moving to make some tea.

Upon entering the room, Roadhog instantly noticed a problem, a problem he’s had since his earliest memories. The chairs would be too small to carry his weight without faltering and breaking. He sighed deeply and looked around the room for anything as McCann took a seat. The tables were mounted to the ground by two thick posts underneath it. Roadhog stared at it, wondering if it was even a viable option. He sighed again. To hell with it, his mind called out as he moved to the table his husband was sitting at. Junkrat watched him as Roadhog only shifted enough weight on the table to get one of his feet off the ground, but only slightly. He didn’t trust any furniture unless it was a couch… or a tire. He can’t even remember how many uncomfortable tires he sat on in the Outback.

McCann looked slightly apologetic at the lack of seating for the big lug. He rubbed the back of his head, “If it makes ya feel better, we got someone almost as big as ya who visits from time to time. He ends up breakin’ all the furniture he sits on and has taken to just leanin’ against the counters.”

It did not, in fact, make Roadhog feel better. If anything, it made him warier of this strange place. If there was someone who was  _ almost  _ as big as  _ Roadhog _ , then that meant that this mystery man is a threat to him and Junkrat. He’s always grown up with being the biggest man in the room; his height and stature are intimidating to all he’s met… besides Junkrat, of course. So, if there’s someone almost as big as  _ him _ , then the demolition duo has a problem.

“Oi, McCann, I got a question for ya?” Junkrat suddenly blurted out.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, “McCann?” And then he paused before bursting out with laughter. “Ya actually thought that was my name?” He laughed again, taking in Junkrat’s not-so amused face. He raised his hands in surrender before smiling, “We used fake names when we introduced ourselves.”

Junkrat thought for a moment. It made sense. His eyes drifted to the open doorway where the kitchen was just barely out of the way. Was Ana’s name fake? He felt a little down by the thought but stuffed the thought away long enough to turn to Not-McCann and ask, “Well? What’s yer name, mate?”

“Name’s Jesse McCree.” He nodded to them, “Oh, and the other guy’s Jack Morrison.”

“Ah, right.” Sounds like a cowboy name, if he had to be honest.

The now-Jesse cleared his throat, “But, um, your question?”

“Oh, roight.” He nodded, “What’s with the hat? Ain’t many cowboys left, mate.”

The other man shook his head, unconsciously swiping a hand against the brim of his hat, “Many have asked the same thing.”

“And?” Junkrat asked impatiently.

“It was kind of out of necessity, sort of personal choice.” Jesse shrugged.

Both junkers paused at this. “Necessity?”

“Well, yeah, after Overwatch disbanded, I became a kind of outlaw. Wearin’ all this in the areas I went to was a necessity.” He explained loosely, “I used it to blend in and whatnot.”

Junkrat nodded at that, “I guess we could understand that.”

Jesse paused for a minute, mind mulling physically over something. “Can I ask y’all somethin’?”

“Depends.” He answered curtly.

“Just how bad is the Outback?” The cowboy asked slowly.

Junkrat was about to say something - it was probably going to be an insult, tell the cowboy to stay out of their business - but, by some grace, Ana sauntered in, four cups of tea balanced precariously in her hands.

“Sorry, it took a little longer than I expected.” She smiled sweetly, moving over to Jesse and handing him one before setting her cup down near the junkers. The older woman placed one of the two remaining teacups in Junkrat’s hands. The man cupped it gently, almost afraid to hold it. Ana paused in front of Roadhog and smiled softly, “I found the thickest mug we had in the kitchen. I didn’t think you’d want a dainty, easily breakable cup.” She handed the cup over to a stunned Roadhog who held it lightly. 

“Thanks.” He grumbled, nearly startling the woman with that single word.

Instead, Ana just moved to take a seat at her table, “Well, you’ll be happy to know that the pizza will be here shortly, twenty minutes or so. Jesse, would you mind going to the door and retrieving it when it arrives?”

He paused, glancing between the older woman and the two junkers. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh, and one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to tip them.” She added with a soft smile, taking a sip of her tea.

Jesse shook his head, amused, “Of course, ma’am.”

It was only after this short conversation did the small group divulge in their teas. Junkrat had tasted better back in Japan, but this was still delectable. Roadhog, for his part, wasn’t a big fan of hot teas, preferring coffee, but it was nice. It soothed their stomachs that had only been filled with bad prison food and their rations from before their heist. It was a nice and welcomed change.

“I hope it’s alright, boys,” Ana stated, setting her cup down.

“It’s amazing as always, ma’am,” Jesse commented, taking another sip.

She shook her head, “You flatter too much, Jesse.” He tipped his hat at her but didn’t say anything else.

Junkrat set his cup down, its contents completely gone, before playing with his fingers. “Yeah, it was good.” He mumbled out.

Ana looked at him, “Would you like another cup?”

He thought back to earlier but shook his head, “One cup, food, and then bed.” He reminded her.

“Ah, of course.”

Junkrat paused and thought, “Maybe… another time?” Ana grinned. It seemed like this was the right thing to say.

The room fell into a welcomed silence, no one uncomfortable by it, just sipping their tea in the early morning. It left the junkers to their thoughts, sometimes making eye contact very sporadically. While Junkrat was warming up to Ana and her polite attitude towards him, he couldn’t exactly say he trusted her. I mean, he only met her a couple of hours ago during a fucking  _ prison break _ . He liked her, he did - he hadn’t met very nice women in his life. Growing up, there was only a small number left in the Outbreak, the women cruel and uncaring, saving their skin before showing any kindness towards any men. For good reason, he thought, there weren’t exactly trustworthy men in Australia. Any woman he met after that had been in between heists, but he never spoke to one as kind as Ana.

But Junkrat, as always, had doubts and reservations; his paranoia was always a plus one in his decision making. It was okay, for now, to indulge in the older woman’s hospitality and kindness but he’d stay wary, keep his secrets to himself. He would drink this tea and eat with this woman and then he and his husband would go to bed, keeping an eye out for any attempts at their lives. Junkrat would set traps and Roadhog would keep his hook and scrap gun close, mask on at all times.

They would be careful,  _ safe _ .

“So,” Ana interrupted the silence, “how long have you boys been partners?”

Junkrat paused, unsure of how to answer. He had just said that he  _ wasn’t  _ going to reveal any secrets. But this was a basic question so, was it okay?  _ Wait -  _ did she mean partners as in business partners or did she mean  _ partners _ ? “Uh… I’m bad with numbers.” He mumbled out after a second.

“Seven years.” Roadhog didn’t hesitate to answer, his voice gravelly from lack of use.

The older woman startled, whether by his deep voice or the number. “Seven years, wow…” She ended up mumbling, eyes in disbelief, “That’s a long time to be in someone’s company. In your files, it said that Roadhog was hired as your bodyguard, Junkrat.”

The junkers stopped, glancing very briefly at each other. They had  _ files _ . Of course, they had files, they were criminals after all. Anything could be in there. He had to know. Junkrat looked up at Ana, eyes suddenly critical, “Do ya still have those files?”

“Um… yes, why?” She blinked, curious. Jesse also seemed to lean forward in his seat a bit.

“At some point, can I have a look at ‘em?” The younger junker inquired, “We ain’t got much to show for ourselves but, anythin’ the government got on us is a little worrisome… if ya got me?”

Ana nodded, “Of course, I can get you a folder of that sometime within the next few days.”

“Thanks, sheila.”

She looked to the wall for a second before turning her head to look at Jesse, “The pizza should be here soon. Don’t forget to tip them.”

The cowboy tipped his hat, “See you in a bit, ma’am.” He got up and quickly left.

Junkrat paused, “I got a question.”

“Hm?”

“If this is a secret base and all, why did ya order a pizza with this address?” He asked, honestly curious. It doesn’t seem Overwatch-like to do something like that.

Ana laughed at him, waving a hand, “Oh, no, we wouldn’t do that. We have a separate safe house that we order things to as to not give away the position of the base. Jesse has to take a car to the house and get our pizza from there.”

“So, like a double-delivery pizza?” He howled with laughter, suddenly imagining Jesse in a pizza delivery uniform, with the brim hat and shitty cotton shirts. Anything but the cowboy look on poor Jesse just seemed so funny to the junker.

The older woman chortled as well, maybe just humoring the junker as she took another seat. “If I may ask,” She started, gaining the two men’s attention, “how did you manage to pull off the Crown Jewel heist?” Junkrat grinned widely. Ana shook her head, amused by his unabashed look, “I mean, no one has ever been able to pull off a job like that. They almost have  _ always  _ been killed during the act or arrested after the fact, never even getting to hold onto it for more than a day.”

Roadhog huffed out a low laugh, his husband grinning up wildly at him. He shook his head, still chuckling. Junkrat snorted, “It’s a secret.”

Ana laughed, “Come on, now, give me a hint. I’ve given you my best tea. Not many have ever tasted  _ my  _ tea.”

He tapped his chin mockingly, looking up at the ceiling as he teased her, “I don’t know.”

“Please?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

Junkrat paused before sighing dramatically, “ _ Fine _ , a  _ tiny  _ hint, that’s it!”

“Alright.” Ana smiled behind her teacup, taking the last few sips of it.

He leaned in close, waving for her to lean in as well. When she was a little bit forward, Junkrat looked side-to-side to make sure no one was there, mocking it as he went with little dramatic flourishes. “You can’t escape any heist if you’re afraid of dyin’, shiela.” He whispered, the woman hanging off his every word, “If you’re scared of dyin’, then you’re gonna make mistakes, get yerself killed.”

Ana leaned back, thinking for a second, “You’re not afraid of dying?” Her words were soft, concerned almost.

Junkrat shook his head, looking up at his husband with thoughtful eyes, “Me and Roadie have almost died dozens of times. He’s brought me back more times than I can count and I can’t tell ya how many times he’s been torn open.”

She paused, thinking over the man’s words carefully. Her eyes flitted up, “You’re lying. Everyone’s scared of dying.”

“Not us, sheila. Livin’ in the Outback means having a no-strings-attached death-sentence. You either survive day-by-day or, sadly, ya die.” He shrugged, “It’s how we stole the Crown Jewels.”

“By not being afraid to die…” Ana mumbled out, “That’s… very interesting.”

“Ya say it like it's a bad thing.” Junkrat scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the table a bit.

“Well,” She started, “it  _ can  _ be a bad thing  _ sometimes _ , in my opinion at least.”

“How so?”

“No reservations for yourself, for starters.” The older woman stated.

Roadhog shook his head, “We look out for each other.”

“Ya!” Junkrat agreed immediately, “It’s why we’re always together. We  _ know  _ we put ourselves in danger a lot. We stay close ‘cause we can tell each other when we’re being too much of a drongo.”

Her eyes widened in realization:

_ Roadhog’s large arm reached out, pushing the younger junker to stand behind him as the large man faced the hallway in front of their team. The guards would be there soon. “Stay.” The older junker grounded out aggressively.  _

_ “‘Course, mate.” Junkrat had responded easily before working on his trap. He nodded at his handiwork, moving to tap his bodyguard’s back, “Oi, Roadie?” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “When you back out, watch your ankles.” The man called out. Roadhog gave a curt nod, stiffening as the first guard appeared down the hallway. _

_ “There they are!” The guard had shouted as more men with guns came to join him. Roadhog took the first shot, a firefight soon taking over the hallway.  _

_ The guards managed to get closer, but it proved to be fatal as Junkrat swept in beside his bodyguard, stepping over his trap. “Roadie, duck!” The younger junker had shouted out. He managed to subdue the approaching guards with a concussion mine, yelling out a “Kaboom” before lighting up the hallway.  _

_ It was only at the sound of a piercing shot that could have killed Junkrat did Roadhog jump into action again, the shot merely blocked by the hardened flesh of the larger man’s arm. He then moved his employer back behind him again, growling out, “You should’ve listened to me.” _

_ “‘Course, matey, sorry,” Junkrat mumbled out. _

Ana smiled despite herself, “You were protecting each other, covering for the other.”

“Of course, partners in crime.” Junkrat grinned widely. His husband sported a similar look, although, sadly, it was covered by his mask.

There was a knock on the doorway, interrupting their light-hearted conversation. The cowboy was back, tipping his hat at the small group, three boxes of pizza pressed between his hand and his waist. Junkrat lit up at the sight of food, his and Roadhog’s stomachs grumbling unhappily at the smell of cheese and pepperoni.

Ana laughed, “Well, don’t just stand there, Jesse. Take a seat, eat a little bit.” He nodded, setting giving one of the boxes of the junkers and picking out a slice for him and the older woman. Junkrat wasted no time diving in for a few slices, taking a massive bite out of it. Jesse and Ana suddenly glanced at one another, eyes darting to the mask Roadhog wore. Would he take it off? Were they going to see what the mystery man behind the mask was?

“Oi, Roadie, don’t gimme that look, I’ll save some slices for ya when we get back to a room,” Junkrat grumbled out through a mouthful of pizza.

No, it doesn’t look like they’ll be seeing anything tonight… or, this morning?

Instead of sitting gloomily at the missed chance at a reveal, Jesse and Ana ate quietly, talking very briefly between bites of their pizza. Junkrat got through three slices before stopping for the night. Ana, noticing him close the pizza box, stood up from her seat. “I’ll show you to your rooms.” She waved them up and out of the dining room and kitchen. They trailed after her quietly, Roadhog now holding the pizza box as they traversed through hallways and two different living rooms.

Ana stopped in between two different doors. “Well,” She waved at the two, “these are your rooms. Both are the same, so choosing should be easy between you both.”

“Oh, we’ll only be needing one room.” Junkrat blurted out, moving past her to open the left door and peer inside. He whistled, “Wow, nice room.” Roadhog looked inside as well, nodding in agreement.

The older woman studied them for a few seconds before moving away from the rooms, “We’ll chat again with Jack when you’re both rested. I’ll see you both later.” She nodded to them before taking her leave, still confused by Junkrat’s words.

The two junkers rushed inside, shutting the doors immediately. Roadhog moved to the bed, almost instantly tilting his mask up just a little bit on his face, exposing his mouth. He tore open the pizza box and devoured the first slice he saw. Junkrat rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry for eatin’ in front of ya mate.”

“S’fine.” Roadhog grumbled between bites, “Gives you more time to make traps before bed.”

“Roight.” The younger junker slapped his forehead, digging through the pouches on his clothes and got to work.

The two sat in silence, broken only by Junkrat’s mumbling as he created traps in front of their bedroom door and the window on the opposite wall and Roadhog’s messy eating habits. It was only about ten minutes but, before they knew it, they were turning off the lights and stripping down, climbing underneath the warm, soft comforts of their new bed.

Junkrat sighed happily, snuggling a bit closer to his pillow. He fluttered his eyes open a bit to stare at his equally exhausted husband, moving just a bit closer to the big lug. “Ya know I love ya, roight?” He mumbled out, planting a kiss on the nose of Roadhog’s mask. It’s a shame he didn’t feel comfortable in Overwatch to take it off in the comfort of an enclosed room.

“Of course,” Roadhog grumbled out, pulling the younger junker even closer, the lanky body pressed firmly against his gut.

Junkrat pressed his head up underneath the man’s chin, breathing in his musk. “I’m so tired, it feels like I can’t even sleep.” He laughed weakly, “How funny is that?”

“Very.” He stated, wrapping his large arms around the smaller man, “You should try to rest.”

“You’ll keep an ear out for us?” Junkrat whispered, fighting sleep.

“Of course.” Roadhog sighed out, pressing the nose of his mask against his husband’s forehead as a mock kiss, “I love you too. Now, sleep.”

Junkrat chuckled, “‘Course, mate.” Before he fell asleep, one of his previous thoughts caught up with him again and he sighed contently.

Maybe this Overwatch thing wouldn’t be so bad, he thought again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter! As you can see, Ana is one of my most favorite characters - aside from Junkrat and Roadhog, of course. She’s a fun character to write, full of wisdom and things you only get from old age. She has sweet little grandma energy but is also a badass! I love her, I’m sorry. Plus, Jesse is always a win so… that’s why he’s getting more love than poor, poor Jack. Sorry, man, you’re just not that cool and it’s projecting into my writing, whoops. I hope you enjoyed this chapter though, it was very fun to write, if not a bit challenging. I need to write more dialogue of Roadhog in the next few chapters or I'm going to get sad because this isn't a Junkrat-centric story, it's a story about his and Roadhog's marriage :(


	4. Overwatch Kind of Sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wah! This chapter is a day late :( I'm trying to keep these chapters flowing once per week but it's hard when I'm stressing over my AP exams and my Not-Graduation and my Not-Prom since COVID-19 has decided that seniors didn't need anything anyway. But that's not what their fanfiction's for - complaining, that is. So, without further ado, the story. Onwards!

Roadhog shifted uncomfortably, waking up slowly. His mask felt like it was stuck to his skin, welded together by sweat. He groaned low, the noise deep in his throat as his eyes finally cracked open. He shifted his weight a bit off his hip, noticing how his back creaked in protest; he might have slept on it wrong. The man searched the surrounding area for evidence to see if he and his husband were, in fact, still in an Overwatch base and in their new room. Upon finding it to be true, Roadhog looked at the digital clock he’d spotted on one of the two nightstands before they’d gone to bed.

It was nearly 5:30 in the afternoon, meaning that he and Junkrat had slept for nearly ten and a half hours. Roadhog leaned back into the warmth of their bed, not at all perturbed by the amount of time they’d slept. They hadn’t been able to sleep much leading up to their failed heist and the prison made sure that the lights were out at eight and woke them up for breakfast at six the next morning - not that the junkers slept much at all in the prison, that is. So, to say that they deserved to sleep ten plus hours is an understatement.

Roadhog let out a deep sigh, scratching underneath his mask, peeling it away from his hot skin; he should take a shower sometime soon. He looked down at his husband who was still snoring away, cuddled into Roadhog’s chest, a line of drool clear as day running down his chin. Behind the mask, the larger man smiled softly, running a hand gently through his husband’s blond, matted hair. Junkrat could use a shower too, he thought as he worked through the knots.

The still-sleeping junker leaned into Roadhog’s touch, earning a chuckle from the big lug. He watched placidly as Junkrat’s hand reached out, making grabby motions; he wanted something. The older of the two shook his head rather amusedly, moving the hand that was in his husband’s hair to link with Junkrat’s own hand. The younger junker stirred at that, blinking his eyes open slowly.

A large yawn stretched his mouth wide, eyes watery with the movement. “Mhm… mornin’, Roadie.” Junkrat grumbled out, snuggling a little closer to his husband. He blinked back the gunk in his eyes, looking to stare at their conjoined hands, giving the other man’s a squeeze, “Ya tryna feel me up, mate?” He asked, eyes suggestive and mouth quirked upwards.

Roadhog barked out a laugh, “You wish.”

The man pouted before stopping, a thought crossing his mind. “We could, ya know…have some fun.” He motioned to the space between them, “If ya know what I mean.”

“Rat.”

“Hm?”

“We can’t.”

“What?!” Junkrat groaned loudly, “And why not? We’re married, mate, I think we can do anythin’ we want.”

The older junker leaned forward, pressing the nose of his mask to his husband’s forehead. He didn’t say anything as he trailed down, nestling in the crook of Junkrat’s neck. “Yes, we can.” Roadhog started, “However, I’m sure that woman and that Morrison guy will be looking for us.”

“Roight.” He sighed deeply, “Well, that  _ blows _ .” 

Roadhog shook his head, patting his husband’s thigh, “Get your limbs on. We should get going.” He leaned away from the smaller junker, moving to sit up. The larger man stretched, cracking his back a few times before standing up, moving to put his pants back on. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” A sudden voice asked from seemingly out of nowhere.

Several things happened in a matter of seconds. Roadhog, who’d managed to shift his pants completely up his hips, reached to the nightstand and gripped his scrap gun almost instantly. He shot his husband a look, watching the man just barely manage to click his prosthetic arm. His leg wasn’t on yet and Junkrat was still sitting on the bed but had started moving closer to Roadhog’s side where the man stood protectively in front of him. 

“Oi! Where are ya?!” Junkrat howled out, frag gun already in his hand, “Show yerself, mate!”

“Apologies for startling you both, it was not my intention.” The voice was back, but this time, they could tell it was a bit feminine… almost robotic. They shot each other a look - they didn’t know there were omnics in Overwatch. This could be bad. “My name is Athena. I’m Overwatch’s computer system, the organization’s artificial intelligence.” The program stated, unperturbed by their weapons and hostile attitudes toward her, “I have told Ana and Jack that you are awake and they are now waiting for you in a conference room.”

Roadhog did not relax, not one bit. He knew omnics. He knew those dreaded machines that had helped to destroy Australia and turn the Outback into a radioactive warzone aren't trustworthy. They were dangerous. What he didn’t know was artificial intelligence, A.I’s. Athena wasn’t an omnic, sure, but she wasn’t something Roadhog understood which meant that he didn’t trust it. The larger man eyed the ceiling where it seemed Athena’s voice had come from. He gave a curt nod, “We’ll be there.” 

“When you exit your room, please follow the lights on the wall. It will take you to the conference room where Ana and Jack will be waiting.” She responded before going completely silent.

Junkrat looked at his spouse, more than a little shaken. He climbed all the way over the bed, Roadhog directing all his attention on the younger junker as he stood in between his legs “I don’t like this, Roadie.” He managed to whisper out, “If that  _ thing  _ is in the vents, does that mean that it can  _ hear  _ and  _ see  _ everything we do?”

Roadhog paused. “That’s a good point.” He found himself thinking aloud, Junkrat’s eyes on him. He worked through his contemplation. Could they not even speak freely in a room that had been gifted to them, or were they just as much captive here as they were in their cells back in the prison. “I don’t know.” He responded loosely, grabbing his gear and putting it on harshly, “I don’t trust this place.”

“Yeah, mate, me too.” Junkrat stated, stuffing a fist underneath his chin, thinking deeply, “We need an escape plan, mate, just in case.” He mumbled out, watching his husband make his way around the bed and grabbing the younger junker’s peg leg.

“If they’re watching, you’ll need to be careful.” Roadhog pointed out, moving back to his husband’s side, getting down on a knee and gently shoving Junrkat’s swollen leg stump into the sleeve of his prosthetic leg.

“Thanks, mate,” Junkrat mumbled automatically, stretching his knee. He really needed to check on his stumps to make sure they were okay. “But yer roight.” The man stated, standing up and moving to pocket a few frag grenades. “How do ya suppose I do that? An escape plan, I mean.” Junkrat questioned, staring up at the larger man who had now moved towards their bedroom door.

“No idea, Rat,” Roadhog stated, pressing a button, watching the door open. They stepped out into the hallway, the two searching for the light the A.I. had mentioned. They found it easily, the flashing blue light trailing down the hallway. The junker followed suspiciously.

“After our chat with the sheila, we should search for cameras,” Junkrat mentioned briefly, eyeing up anyone he and his husband passed, which wasn’t many. 

Roadhog nodded, “Yeah.” The conversation died as they continued walking down the hallway before watching the lights stop over a door. Surprisingly, the conference room they were directed at was decently close to their room.

Without haste, Junkrat swung open the door, eyeing the occupants inside. There was Ana who smiled upon his entry, Jack who only looked with cold authority, and… His eyes widened, “What…” His voice died in his throat. 

There was a fucking  _ gorilla  _ in the conference room!

Junkrat paused before barking out a laugh, smacking his head with the palm of his hand. It’s not like he hadn’t seen weirder things. When he and his husband had lived in Junkertown, the Junker Queen had a fucking  _ hamster  _ compete in the Scrapyard. He waved off the gorilla who only bristled upon seeing Junkrat march in, his husband in tow. The conference room was a lot smaller now that they were more people inside.

“Take a seat.” Ana smiled up at them, looking well-rested. Her hands held a cup of tea that steamed in front of her face.

Roadhog crossed his arms over his chest as Junkrat took a seat. The bigger junker eyed the gorilla suspiciously. Was this the person Jesse was talking about when he’d mentioned someone  _ ‘almost as big as him’ _ ? The gorilla, as if sensing someone’s eyes on him, stared up at Roadhog from where he sat beside Jack. Roadhog only stared back. After barely even a second, the primate’s head dipped away to look at something unassuming hands fumbling nervously. The junker narrowed his eyes distrustfully.

“I hope you both slept well.” Ana interrupted his thoughts, pulling the junkers' attention back on her. She motioned to the gorilla, “I hope you don’t mind, but we invited one of the other leaders to your orientation. This is Winston.”

“It’s a pleasure too, um… meet you both.” Winston bowed his head as some sort of greeting, a small smile on his large features.

“Well, mate, gotta say I’m a little surprised by ya.” Junkrat grinned widely. He watched the leaders' reactions, gauging that they thought he was going to say something mean, but no, he was too unpredictable for that. “I’ve only ever seen an intelligence  _ hamster  _ back in ‘Stralia but a talkin’ gorilla is kinda cool.”

“Hamster?” The gorilla mumbled out, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Jack piped in, looking a little tad aggravated, “We’ve got more important matters at hand.”

It’s like a switch flipped in Junkrat as he crossed his arms, suddenly looking aggressive “Yer roight, mate, like how there’s a fuckin’ omnic in the ceilin’.” The three Overwatch agents paused, glancing at one another. “I’m just gonna ask. Are ya watching me and Roadie in our room?”

“What are you talking about?” Ana looked genuinely confused, concerned even.

“Athena,” Roadhog stated, also curious about their answers.

Winston shook his head adamantly, “No, absolutely not. We want agents to feel comfortable in their rooms, in their own space. We would never watch or videotape residents. It would violate human rights to privacy.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Ya sure. ‘Cause the robot told ya three that we were awake and how could they do that if ya weren’t watching? Hm?”

“I made Athena. I programmed her with thermal sensors. It was mostly to help with announced guests or threats, but she helps in other ways.” Winston explained as best as he could, “Biologically, humans’ bodies generate less heat when they sleep so when she registered that your temperatures were rising, she told us that you were waking up.” 

The younger junker shot his husband a look, raising an eyebrow in an  _ “I don’t know enough about thermal sensors so, do you believe him?”  _ All Roadhog did was shrug in an  _ “I can’t be sure, but let’s just go with it” _ . Junkrat nodded to that, looking back at the three, “Fine, but I don’t like it talkin’ to us in our room.”

Ana nodded, “We’ll keep that in mind for future reference. But if there is an emergency, she will alert you.”

He waved her off, but appreciated her lack of hesitation to appeal to him, “So, this orientation thing, huh?”

Jack coughed, sitting up a bit straighter, making himself look a little bigger. Roadhog could have scoffed. “Yes.” The man started, “Because you aren’t like any of our other recruits-”

“You can say we’re criminals, mate, ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s.” Junkrat chuckled, placing a hand underneath his chin. His husband bit back a laugh of his own at that.

He eyed the two, “Because you’re  _ criminals,  _ you both are going to be given a provisional trial to see if you’re worth Overwatch’s time and money. You’re not trustworthy, so this is to see if you can conform to the Overwatch life.”

The junkers looked at each other. “Conform?” Junkrat questioned, not liking the sound of it.

Ana stepped in. “That means that you may still be individual in your likes and habits, but you must socialize, work with others, take orders from higher powers like myself or designated leaders on missions, and, of course, follow the rules.” She explained, “Not being able to conform to these guidelines will result in a punishment seen fit by the three of us collectively.”

“Ah.” Junkrat stated, waving a hand, “So, these rules?”

“Rule number one is that there are no unnecessary kills on missions.” Jack responded, “Unless you are given the okay from a superior, you must keep deaths to a minimum. Incapacitate, not kill.”

“Well, that’s a load of horse shit.” The younger junker barked out, crossing his arms, “All deaths are necessary if they’re tryna kill ya, mate.”

“I could see how you’d feel that way, Junkrat.” Ana stated calmly, setting her empty teacup down, “But because we are trying to bring Overwatch back into a good light, any unnecessary deaths could put us in danger of having to shut everything down again.”

He was going to say something along the lines of  _ “Well, that’s not my problem”  _ but Roadhog’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying something. Junkrat gave his husband a look, a silent thanks for keeping him on lockdown. Instead of saying anything, he motioned for them to continue, albeit bitterly.

“While not really a rule, per se, but it’s important to note. All recruits have to go through a set of tests.” Winston began, “There are three of them: one tests your physical attributes and stamina, the second works on your individual ways of attack to show us what you can do, and the third is a doctor’s evaluation.”

Junkrat physically paled significantly. “Absolutely  _ not _ . You keep those docs’ away from me.” He looked murderous, “Ain’t no way I’m goin’ to a doctor.” Roadhog stood a little straighter, broadening his shoulders behind his husband.

“You can’t be an agent if you don’t,” Jack stated, voice cold and uncaring.

“So what?!” He growled out, “If it keeps yer evil doctors away from me, then so be it!”

“That’s enough!” Ana’s voice was loud, but not mean. She shot Jack a look before turning her attention back to the junkers, noticing the way Roadhog had moved earlier. “Junkrat, why don’t you want to be seen by a doctor?” She pressed for an answer. He crossed his arms, mouth sealed shut. “Is there something we need to know? Did something happen to-”

“Stay outta it.” Junkrat interrupted quietly. His words weren’t harsh, just defensive.

“Give us one reason why you can’t be seen by a doctor, please.” Ana begged, stopping Winston and Jack from butting in, “Just one.” She held up a finger for emphasis.

Junkrat stared at the table, clenching and unclenching his fists, “I already know what’s wrong wit me, no point in goin’.”

She shook her head, “That’s not a good enough reason, Junkrat.” He looked away. Ana thought very briefly, “Okay, how about this?” He eyed her suspiciously. “After this meeting, you tell me all that’s wrong with you and I’ll relay the information to the doctor so you don’t have to see one.”

He paused, arms falling to his side, “Ya sure? Doesn’t seem like they’re okay with it.”

The older woman turned to look at Winston and Jack, her eyes narrowing at them. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t look approving. “Junkrat.” She gathered his attention again, “If you trust me then, of course, I will.” Ana smiled comfortingly.

Junkrat, paused, glancing at his husband. Roadhog looked like he agreed with her idea, that there wasn’t anything wrong with the proposition. If it kept him away from doctors, then the larger man was fine with anything the woman proposed. Junkrat looked at his hands before nodding his head, “Fine, no doctors.”

“No doctors.” She agreed with a nod of her own.

Jack looked at her, an unknown emotion playing in his older eyes. “Well,” he started, gathering everyone’s attention again, “your other two tests will begin first thing tomorrow at seven. Your skills test will be first, then your physical. Don’t be late. Do you understand?” He got two nods.

“Anything else?” Junkrat inquired, his nerves a little fried.

“While I am not pleased that you won’t see a doctor, that is all for now.” Jack stated, “I will say before you go, that you will not be allowed on any missions for three weeks. This will help you get used to the base, get to know others… if you like and work on conforming.” He stood up, Winston moving with him. “Dismissed.” 

Ana took her teacup with her as she stood, motioning for the junkers to follow her out of the conference room. They didn’t say anything while they walked, passing by their room as they headed towards the kitchen. She set her teacup down before turning around, “Would you boys like some tea? It helps with nerves.” The comment was directed at Junkrat.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Um… sure.” They watched her move silently, setting a kettle over the stovetop. “Ya sure yer alroight with us not seeing a doc’?” Junkrat asked after a moment.

Ana sighed deeply, “I’m with Jack on this one.” He gave her a look. “I wish you’d see a doctor just to get a physical, a… guide, if you will, to what you boys had to endure in the Outback.” They bristled at her comment. “Everyone knows that Australia is a contaminated, irradiated area. Not many live past radiation poisoning and the harsh climates.” She said, voice rather sad, “I would like to see you go get checked by a doctor, but it’s okay. Maybe in the future, you could go?” Her voice was hopeful.

It was unlikely, but the look in her eyes made Junkrat’s stomach flip. “Maybe.”

She smiled softly, turning back to the whistling kettle. Ana made their tea quietly, stirring in some sugar cubes before handing out the cups to the demolition duo. Roadhog smiled underneath his mask at being handed a mug he could actually hold again. He couldn’t drink the tea from earlier that morning in front of her due to his animosity and he couldn’t do it now. However, he appreciated the gesture. The older woman seemed to notice, a thin smile on her face as she motioned for them to follow her into the other room they’d occupied earlier that morning.

“Have you ever been seen by a doctor?” Ana inquired after they settled into seats.

The younger junker mulled over his words. “Roadie used to go get check-ups a lot before the omnic crisis when docs’ were always available.” Junkrat looked to his husband, watching for any sign that he was speaking too much about the man’s past but Roadhog let him continue. “I’ve been seen by less than… uh,  _ great  _ ones.” He scratched his neck, the spot right underneath his ear where dirt tended to build up. His mouth felt dry talking about this, moving to take a sip of his tea instead of continuing.

“Are there not many doctors left in the Outback?” She asked, settling into her seat more, interest clear in her eyes.

“No, not really.” He waved a hand, “Most of the doc’s that were left after the big kaboom were taken and hidden away into Junkertown. Any ya find rummaging ‘round the Outback are  _ crazy _ .”

“I see.” The woman paused to drink some of her tea. “What’s Junkertown?” She inquired after a moment.

“Some stupid place where lots of junkers live.” Junkrat huffed flippantly, waving a hand. He thought back to his days when he and Roadhog before the two were even dating, had a home in Junkertown. It was a little small shack that protected them from the acid rain and only had a single bed. It was cramped most nights and even hotter other nights. Junkrat tended to his bombs while his husband had worked on perfecting his bike to race the sun. That was until they were kicked out. “One day, I’mma burn that place to the ground and blow up the Queen.” He cackled menacingly.

“I hadn’t realized the Outback had a hierarchy,” Ana mumbled.

“We don’t.” He deadpanned, voice flat, “The Junker Queen is just a sheila who had managed to make it to the top by beating the snoz outta junkers in the Scrapyard in those big mechs.”

Ana snorted, covering her mouth from the sudden sound. “Is this where you met the  _ ‘intelligent hamster’ _ ?” The woman grinned kindly.

Junkrat barked out a laugh, “Glad ya were payin’ attention, sheila. And, yes, it is.”

She shook her head, very much amused. But, they had more important things to be talking about. “We’re getting off track,” Ana stated, setting her teacup to the side for the time being

“Ah, I was hoping ya weren’t gonna bring that up.” He grinned, watching her smile sweetly. Junkrat set his cup down as well, pondering for a moment, “Alroight… what’s wrong wit me?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me.” She smirked, poking fun at him.

He huffed, although amused. “Ya mentioned the radiation poisonin’ earlier, miss. Well, we got it.” The younger junker motioned between him and his husband, “The big lug doesn’t have it as bad as me, but… bad is still bad, ya know?” Ana nodded sympathetically as he continued. “I’ve had radiation poisonin’ since I was just a tod’, all small and helpless.” Junkrat made a face at that, “Roadie had help in managin’ it, but I wasn’t lucky.” He looked away, contemplating for a minute. “Always been unlucky, ya know?”

“Junkrat,” She called out, smiling, “I’ve heard that, while life may deal you a bad hand or take away a good hand you were already dealt, the way you play the hand is how your life is defined. Just like in poker, you can end up winning no matter how bad the cards are.” Ana waved a hand, continuing, “You may be unlucky and clumsy, tottering between the motions but, to that, I’d say, just live your life how you want.”

The younger junker stared at her, eyes wide and focused. He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t even know how to respond. “Uh… yeah, that’s…” Junkrat fiddled with the screws on his mechanical arm, looking away from her, “That’s what we’re doin’, um, miss… just livin’.”

“Right, of course.” Ana smiled sweetly, “Is there anything else the doctor should know about?” 

“Um, roight, yeah. Obviously, me leg ‘n arm is a problem.” He motioned towards the limbs with a sway of his hand, “They get sore and swollen all the time. Got plenty of scars on me numbs and… what was that thing one of them docs said?” Junkrat turned towards his husband for help.

“Dead nerves.”

“Roight, dead nerves.”

Ana paused, concerned, “How far do the dead nerves go?”

“Uh, I dunno, it’s been a while-”

“Four years.” Roadhog interrupted without his husband pausing.

“-since I last had them checked by a doc. The guy almost gutted me when I made fun of his hair!” Junkrat ended with a harsh laugh, hitting his knee. He felt a hand on his back, completely clamming up. He was speaking too much. They were still trying to keep a downlow. 

“Is that why you don’t like doctors?” Ana questioned.

Yep, he spoke too much. Junkrat shook his head, “Stay outta it, sheila. I mean it.” It wasn’t a threat or a warning, just a silent beg.

“Fine, I won’t pry.” She lifted her hands in surrender, finishing her tea completely before starting again, “What about you Roadhog?”

“Severe asthma.” 

She blinked, mumbling out, “The mask. It makes so much more sense now.” Ana paused, thinking back to when they’d first met. “Does the Hodrogen you mentioned before help with this?” 

He nodded.

“I see.” She nodded, more to herself, “Anything else?”

“I think that’s enough for today,” Roadhog stated, head tilted down towards his husband.

Junkrat eyed him curiously, slowly nodding, “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ana looked between them, sighing, “I won’t pry too much but, really, if there is anything else the doctor needs to know about - and I mean  _ anything  _ \- please, tell me.”

“Nope. We told ya everything, sheila.” The younger junker grinned widely, moving to stand up.

She followed suit, “Well, I guess you’re free to go. Take a look around the place, if you’d like.”

Junkrat looked up at his husband, asking a silent  _ “Want to explore?”  _ but it ended in a shake of Roadhog’s head, the motion almost non-existent to Ana who was watching curiously. He looked back to the older woman, “Sorry, we’re just gonna head back to our room.”

“Well, then I will see you tomorrow at your physicals. Seven o’clock, boys, don’t be late.” Ana gave them one final smile before leaving the small dining area.

They, similarly, were going to see their way out but stopped inside the kitchen. They hadn’t actually eaten anything since earlier that morning. Deciding it best to hoard some sustenance while they can, the demolition duo raided the cupboards and the fridge without even a word to each other. They worked in tandem, taking apart sandwich meat bags and finding a half loaf of bread, hiding it away in a sack of potatoes that they carried to their rooms. They didn’t trust Overwatch to feed them every day.

They made it back to their room without running into anyone - which was good because they didn’t want to have to fight anyone for their evening meal. Immediately upon the door sliding shut behind them almost silently, Junkrat bounded around the room ferociously, searching every nook and cranny. Roadhog went after the spots behind him, double-checking in case his husband had missed anything. If there were cameras, they were going to find them and  _ crush  _ them. They moved nightstands, ripped open wallpaper, nearly broke the light fixture in the process, tore deep into the walk-in closet, and dissected the bathroom of any contents they could find. Roadhog helped to lift their bed, his husband moving to scurried underneath it, searching for a supposed audio recorder that could have been there. 

This went on for nearly an hour but, in the end, they had found nothing at all. It calmed them, but not completely. They would just have to leave it to another day or wait until further evidence comes forward. In the meantime, the two sat on their bed and ate into raw potatoes and made sandwiches together. It would curb their hunger until tomorrow.

And then tomorrow, who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, really. I wanted to explore writing more from Roadhog's perspective because he's such an interesting character. I hope that the junkers are in character - it would suck if they weren't since this is a demolition duo-centric story, so, yeah. Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated on how I could further this story and whatnot. Thanks for reading!


	5. Like Seeing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the delay on this chapter. I, at first, was struggling with figuring out a format for this chapter but I, sadly, then lost all of my motivation for this story. Then, unfortunately, my grandfather died (not COVID related) and I spent two weeks with my family and time after to grieve properly. With my motivation still gone, I decided to put all my focus on finishing all my end-of-school work, taking exams and whatnot. I went through graduation and have only just started getting back into writing now that I have a bit more motivation. Hopefully, once this chapter gets out, I’ll get back onto a weekly schedule but don’t hold me up to that. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

“Oi, Doc’,” Junkrat grinned maliciously, running a finger over his mouth to swipe away the blood coming down from his split lip, “if ya don’wanna end up like yer lackeys out there, yer gonna want to do everythin’ we say. Roight, Roadie?” The large man simply pulled his hook from a corpse, shaking off the organ still attached to it. Junkrat cackled loudly, eyes wild and full of adrenaline as he found the doctor once more.

The doctor was small but lanky, wearing a torn up gas mask. The man took a few shaky steps backwards, trying to make space between him and the demolition duo in front of him. Roadhog, sensing that the man might run, followed his steps accordingly. Faster than what most would suspect from the big lug, Roadhog maneuvered quickly, shoving the doctor into a corner. He leaned in close once the doctor was secured in front of him and said in a low, cold voice, “Stay.”  __

Junkrat hobbled up next to him, cooing quietly. “Ya know, Doc’, ya should really listen to the big lug, or else.” He shrugged, cackling to himself.

“ _ Junkrat _ ,” The doctor spat out his name like it was venom, “heard the Queen’s been lookin’ for that head of yer’s.” His hands balled into fists as if he was ready to pick a fight.

“Yeah, so  _ what _ ?” He laughed gleefully, “Lots of people have, ya bloke. Hell, if she really wanted me dead, Doc’, the sheila’lll have to get off her stupid fuckin’ throne and kill me herself.”

The man took a deep breath. At the moment Roadhog was sure he would strike, the doctor just huffed out, putting his hands up in surrender. “Alroight, boys, what do ya need?” His voice was distorted behind the gas mask he wore over his face.

Junkrat smirked widely, “Thanks for yer cooperation, Doc’. We need a quick checkup, if ya don’t mind. Well, ha, not like ya have much choice.” He snickered loudly, hand coming up over his mouth to silence himself but couldn’t stop the flow of the noise. Well, that was until Roadhog finally got fed up with it, managing to make the younger junker shut up within seconds.

The doctor growled low at them, “ _ Fine _ . Come with me, if that’s alroight?” He eyed the larger of the two junkers, still stuck between them in the corner. Roadhog took a large step back, watching the doctor like a hawk as he shuffled around the wall of rock they’d cornered him in. The gas-mask wearing man led them to a hidden door that held his gang’s housing. The man checked his dirtied surroundings, pulling up a tire and a table for seating as he squatted down on the floor. Neither junker took a seat, continuing to watch the man silently as the doctor pulled out a bag from a hidden spot underneath the broken tiled floor. “So,” He started, rummaging through the old medical bag, “what did you boys get into that ya need a doctor?”

“Well, thought ya could check the big guy’s lungs a bit - he ain’t been feeling too well lately. Been breathin’ weird, if ya get me.” Junkrat elbowed his bodyguard, eyeing him from underneath unkempt eyebrows as he shifted from his foot to his peg leg every few seconds, “Maybe ya got some Hogdrogen we could stock up on too. Do ya?”

“Ya got money for it?” The doctor eyed the two suspiciously.

“If ya got Hogdrogen, then sure, Doc’, we got money.” The younger junker crossed his arms, motioning for the doctor to continue moving.

He pulled out a few things from the bag and placed them on the table. The doctor went to another hidden spot, this time it being a small crate placed in-plain-sight behind a broken painting. He pulled it out and peeled the top open, stepping back for the demolition duo to look at his stock.

“How much for all of it?” Junkrat inquired.

“What’cha got?”

The junker shook his head, “We’re not playin’ this game, Doc’. Fixed price, that’s it.”

“Two hundred for  _ each _ container, then.” The doctor crossed his arm.

“One hundred.”

“Two-fifty.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes in challenge, “One-fifty and we won’t kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He growled slowly, picking up a large rock off the floor that’d somehow managed to get into the building, “I’ll smash all the bottles before you get a shot.”

He paused, watching as Roadhog’s hand tensed beside his scrap gun. Junkrat looked back at the doctor, “One-fifty.”

“One-seventy-five.” The man countered, aggravated.

Junkrat stopped again, once more glancing up at his bodyguard. Roadhog merely nodded as he relaxed, the motion lost on the doctor. “Fine, one-seventy-five for each Hogdrogen.” He grinned, “Payment after the checkup.”

He nodded, “What ‘bout ya, boy? Nothin’ wrong wit ya?”

“Nah, ain’t-” An elbow hit his side, “Ow!  _ Roadie! _ ”

Roadhog glowered above him, nodding down at his charge, “Check his arm and leg too.”

“I don’t need-” He was elbowed into silence.

The man stood up straight, glancing between the two, “Fine, but I will be expectin’ that payment after this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Junkrat grumbled, rubbing his side. He sat down on the tire the doctor laid out earlier and watched the smaller man pull out a stethoscope. It was in poor condition - both dirty and rusty - but so was everything else in the Outback.

“Can you breathe in n’ out for me?” The doctor placed the stethoscope against his chest, having to stand on his tiptoes to even reach Roadhog’s sternum. The large man did as he was told, breathing in a few times before the doctor pulled away. He moved to stand behind the larger man, doing the same thing. “Well,” He started, “they are a bit clogged but that might just be ‘cause the weather.”

“Huh?” Junkrat interrupted, fist pressed against his chin as he sat.

“Well, we have had a lot of storms in the area as of late. The amount of acid still lingerin’ on the ground ‘round here. The sun’s been reheating the acid but not completely removin’ it, if ya know what I mean. The fumes are probably just gettin’ into yer mask and makin’ ya lungs work overtime.” He stepped away from the large junker, “Ya might need an adjustment to yer mask soon or just move to a different area if yer really worried about breathin’ that stuff in. Ya should be fine, though, given a few days.” The doctor concluded, looking between the two junkers, hoping the answer was sufisable.

Roadhog only nodded to his words, looking over his shoulder at his charge. “Rat.” He motioned for the younger junker to get up, that it was his turn. Junkrat read the look instantly, popping up from the tire and hobbling over to the table where he promptly took a seat. His bodyguard stayed close as the doctor went in.

“How long have you been without yer arm n’ leg?” He questioned, eyeing the metal plates and the skin surrounding it.

“Dunno, been a while though.” Junkrat stated, looking up, “Oi, Roadie, do ya remember?”

The man was silent in his pondering before speaking lowly, “A year and a half.”

“Ya’ve not been healin’ well from what I can see.” The doctor mumbled, looking up at the junker, “Mind takin’ them off so I can get a better look?”

Junkrat looked up at Roadhog as if silently asking him to watch his back since he’ll be more vulnerable without his limbs. The man nodded. “Okay.” The younger junker moved meticulously, pressing buttons and twisting knobs until both his mechanical arm and his peg leg were sitting beside him. He fidgeted in place, shifting around uncomfortably. 

The doctor pointed a finger at an area on his arm nub, “The muscles here are too constricted together.” He paused for a second, “I’mma test somethin’.” The man jabbed his finger deep into the tissue. Junkrat shifted from the pressure but he wasn’t in pain. “Just as I suspected, dead nerves.” The doctor furrowed his eyebrows, moving his index finger and thumb up the man’s arm, feeling how far it went, “I’m surprised that there is no neuroregeneration at all.” 

“Huh?” The junker raised an eyebrow in question, “What’cha mean?”

“Neuroregeneration, means yer nerves grow back or repair itself when damaged. Usually, the problem most people have when losin’ a limb is that too much of their nerves grew back and become tangled in the muscle here,” He poked the nub again for emphasis, “causin’ pain. But ya can’t feel anything until I get a bit closer to yer shoulder, right?”

“I guess.”

“Best thing I could say for ya to do is massage the muscle every night to increase blood flow and nerve activity, if all yer nerves haven’t completely died yet.” The doctor shrugged, “Not much can help ya, boy.”

Junkrat rolled his eyes, “Yeah, coulda told ya that, Roadie. Don’t need no checkup from a doc’.”

Roadhog ignored him in favor of motioning to the man’s leg. The doctor, noticing the motion, glanced down to the nub. “I didn’t forget.” He mumbled out, lifting Junkrat’s leg up to get a better look. The gas mask-wearing man was quiet for a brief moment, “It’s worse than yer arm.” The demolition duo leaned in at that, listening intently. “There is so much scarrin’ down ‘ere.” He ‘tsk’ed quietly, “Was both yer arm n’ leg lost at the same time?”

“Yeah?”

“Then I guess the reasonin’ for this aggressive scarrin’ is due to yer peg leg.” The doctor pointed at the wooden limb, shaking his head quietly, “‘M surprised yer actually still walkin’. I doubt ya have  _ any  _ nerves left in this thing.” He investigated the leg more before pausing, fingers twitching in front of him. “Lemme get somethin’ from the bag. It might help ya...”

Roadhog watched him go before turning towards his charge. His eyes bore into the man with intent. The younger junker simply leaned back against the table. He glanced at the larger man before groaning out loud, “Don’t gimme that look, Roadie.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But’cha were  _ thinkin’  _ it, mate.” Junkrat rolled his eyes, a pout on his lips, “Yer thinkin’  _ ‘Man, if only he’d listen to me when I said not to have a peg leg’ _ . Well, mate, sorry ‘bout that, but the peg leg was our only option.”

Roadhog scoffed, turning his head for the briefest of moments. “I didn’t  _ say  _ anything.” He reiterated, a chuckle on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, well, don’t matter anymore, mate.” Junkrat huffed out. 

The older junker shook his head, turning to look back at the man he was supposed to be guarding before he saw it. Roadhog’s eyes widened, seeing that the doctor was now standing behind Junkrat with a large knife. The doctor wheezed delightfully and, before the larger man could do anything, the gas-mask-wearing doctor had already reached up, grabbing at Junkrat’s neck harshly. “Hrrk!” The noise penetrated the air as the doctor slammed him down against the table, promptly blocking off his airway with his tight hold. Junkrat’s eyes could only stare up as the doctor started raising the rusty knife in the air.

And he laughed, low and wheezy, “This is what you deserve,  _ Junkrat _ .” 

It wasn’t like the moves, where time slows down and there’s time for someone to come to your rescue. The younger junker only had a second to process Roadhog’s shout of horror as he fumbled for his scrap gun and hook as the knife slammed down at his abdomen.

And the world turned dark.

Junkrat jolted awake, sitting up hastily as a cold sweat crawled itself down his body. “ _ Roadie _ !” He wheezed out, his husband’s name a mantra on his tongue. His hands frantically cast themselves flat across his stomach and lower abdomen,  _ searching  _ for the wound the doctor had given him. He searched for the blood he  _ knew  _ was there, what should be coating his outsides in its crimson horrors. A hand was suddenly on his knee, tapping twice. And Junkrat paused, taking quick breaths as his body tensed.

“Jamie?” It was a quiet voice that pulled him away, a warm and low voice. The hand tapped twice again.

While his body didn’t dare move, Junkrat’s eyes followed the hand up, finding an elbow and a round shoulder, muscular and broad. They travelled up a thick neck and landed on an  _ oh so  _ familiar mask. He took a deep breath, searching, “Roadie…”

“What is it?” His words were soft, welcoming and kind.

Junkrat didn’t respond to that, turning his body around slowly so he could face his husband fully, eyes trailing up and down to make sure that he was  _ there _ . “Roadie.” He took another breath, this time, it seemed to help calm his nerves, even if it was just a bit.

“Hm?”

“Roadie, Roadie,  _ Roadie… _ ” Junkrat mumbled out quickly, reaching for the older man’s hand still placed delicately on his thigh. He took the large hand and placed it on his lower abdomen and, suddenly, just like that, it was gone. The knife and the blood and the pain and the panic… it was all gone. All that was left was just a faded mess of tissue and scars. Junkrat smiled, laughing to himself despite everything, “It was a dream. A dream...”

Roadhog pulled his hand away, moving it up to caress his husband’s face. He ran a thumb underneath the man’s wet face, a mixture of panicked tears and sweat. “Was it the doctor again?” He murmured, reaching another hand up and tucking his fingers behind Junkrat’s ear.

He gave his husband a grim smile, his flesh hand and nub going to sit over Roadhog’s own. The younger junker leaned into the man’s hands, breathing deeply. “Yeah, mate, it was…” Junkrat managed to mumble out, “Guess that sheila brought ‘em memories back, ya know?”

“Yeah,” The larger man said, moving to tugging Junkrat gently into his arm, “Come here.” 

He eagerly tucked himself underneath Roadhog’s chin, breathing in his familiar scent. The junkers lied there, complacent as Junkrat took deeper breaths to completely calm down. It helped a bit, but not much. He could still feel the knife’s sharp edge embedded deep into the tissue and muscles of his stomach, of the blood pouring from him like a fountain as he held onto his life. The younger junker moved to run his fingertips along the faint scar trailing diagonally against his lower abdomen, as a final confirmation of sorts. He was still here, alive and well.

“Ya know, Roadie?” Junkrat mumbled after quite a bit of silence had run between them. His husband managed a mumble of his own in response, “What happened once I passed out after the doc’, ya know…” He waved his nub for emphasis, stomach still churning a bit.

“With one hand, I threw you over my shoulder, with the other, I squeezed that doctor’s head until it exploded.” Roadhog spoke calmly, the words bitter on his tongue, “I left with both you and the Hogdrogen on our bike.”

“‘N we went to that house? ‘Cause it was gonna rain?” Junkrat asked sleepily, yawning loudly.

He nodded, pressing the nose of his mask against his husband’s forehead, “Who knew you getting cut up would lead to me getting my head out of my ass and telling you I loved you.”

“Hm.” The younger junker giggled quietly.

Roadhog paused, fingers trailing up and down his husband's spine, “You really scared me then.”

“I know…” Junkrat nuzzled in closer, “M’sorry.” They stayed silent for a little bit longer than before, but neither felt exactly tired. Makes sense, though. Both of them having slept earlier in the day meant that they wouldn’t have needed much sleep now that it was actually late in the evening. By now, it was probably close to three in the morning.

“Roadie?” Junkrat broke the silence again.

“Hm?”

He moved to sit up, looking down at his husband, “When did ya realize ya loved me?”

Roadhog blinked, moving a hand to sit lightly against the other man’s cheek. He ran a thumb over freckled skin, obscured by dirt and grime, “It was after you told me you loved me.”

“Really?” He was genuinely surprised.

He nodded, sighing deeply. “At first, I was... was so  _ mad _ when you told me that; I couldn't even fathom someone like you loving someone like me. I didn’t think I deserved you after all the things I’d done in my past, things that caused, you know…” He couldn’t say it out loud. Junkrat only smiled, ushering for him to continue. “But I felt this weird sensation I’d never really felt before so… I kissed you to see if what I felt would change.”

“Did it?” He smiled lovingly.

“It didn’t.” Roadhog’s hands moved to sit at his husband’s hips, “And then, before I could even stop it, you were being gutted.” Junkrat’s face screwed up at that. “I thought I was going to lose you, thought  _ ‘This is it, I failed, I couldn’t save him’ _ and that I would never see your face ever again.” He took a deep breath, his chest making the younger junker rise with it who only continued to stare at his husband in wonderment, “I’ve only ever been scared three time in my life: the Omnic Crisis destroying Australia, when those explosions took away your arm and leg, and when that doctor almost took you from me.”

“I promised to not do that again, if that makes ya feel better.” Junkrat grinned slyly.

“It does.” Roadhog smiled from underneath his mask. He watched his husband press a chaste kiss to the glass eye of his mask. When he pulled back, the older man noticed a sour look on Junkrat’s face. “What is it?” He questioned.

“Take off your mask.”

“Rat,” He squeezed the man’s hips a little, “I can’t.”

He looked away, “We didn’t even find any cameras, no one’s gonna see ya beside me mate.”

“There could be other-”

Junkrat leaned forward quickly, peering in the man’s glass eyes, “Maybe they were right, mate. They probably don’t watch us.”

“You can’t possibly know that. They could have been lying.” Roadhog sighed deeply.

“I’m your  _ husband _ , mate.” He grumbled out, leaning away from him. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth turned into a deep frown. The man blinked quickly, feeling his eyes burn a little bit. He wouldn’t cry, he  _ wouldn’t _ . Junkrat swallowed thickly. “I just wanna see you, Mako…” 

Roadhog stopped, body frozen as he simply stared at his husband.  _ Mako _ . He knew Junkrat’s memory sometimes wasn’t all there and, before their engagement heist, he would often forget Roadhog’s name. He couldn’t blame him, but it hurt. Since their honeymoon, Junkrat hadn’t really said his real name all that much, which was fine because the larger man didn’t typically like being called ‘Mako’ anymore but with Junrkat,? It was different. It was always different. And it’s different now.

Because all Junkrat wanted from ‘Mako’ was to see his face. He didn’t want to see Roadhog’s mask or see the One Man Apocalypse in action. He wanted  _ ‘Mako’ _ .

How could he deny him going forth?

Without another word between them about the issue, Roadhog pulled his hands away from his husband’s sides, going over to remove the straps holding the mask to his face. Junkrat watched with bated breath, eyes wide and happy. He scrubbed away the burning sensation left there and continued to watch. It was only a couple seconds but, between the two of them, it was like ages before the mask was finally removed and set to the side gently. A breath, two, passed between them as they just stared at one another. For some reason, it felt like the second time they’d ever kissed one another, an uncertainty then replaced with a knowing and wanting now. 

Junkrat leaned in slowly, eyeing up his husband with a warm smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roadhog murmured, eyes lidded as he moved in, pressing his large, chapped lips up against his husband’s. A delighted noise escaped the younger junker, nub pressed against the larger man’s chest as his other hand sat on Roadhog’s cheek. They deepen their kiss, tugging one another closer. They fit perfectly, like two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles managing to fit together despite it all. 

Junkrat pulled away first, nub going to swipe his chin of drool that had escaped from his mouth. Sometimes making out just gets wet, he reminded himself, laughing. He jumped in again, this time with more zeal to his movements. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured out between each chaste kiss he gave his husband.

Roadhog chuckled between their lips, hand going to the man’s neck and angling Junkrat’s head, deepening the kiss even further. He took his teeth and bit roughly into his husband’s lip, getting a laugh of surprise out of the explosive junker. The older man pulled away, smiling despite himself as his hands found their way back on his husband’s hips. “How do you always get what you want?” He shook his head lightly.

“I dunno.” Junkrat blinked innocently, “I mean, I was hopin’ you’d know the answer to that, mate, speakin’ on how  _ you  _ married  _ me _ .”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Ya love me, mate.”

Roadhog paused, smiling behind his mask, “Of course, I do.”

The younger junker pulled back a little, flustered by his husband’s lack of hesitation. He recovered easily, though, diving back in for another kiss, one of purpose this time around. However, it didn’t last long as a yawn drew itself out of Junkrat, getting an amused grin from his husband. “Sorry.” Junkrat apologized quietly.

Roadhog ran a hand through his husband’s charred and balding hair, “S’okay. I guess it is still late. Maybe we’ll save this for tomorrow after our trials or whatever they were.”

The younger junker peered down at the other man from behind his eyelashes, “Promise you won’t wear your mask?”

“Promise.”

Junkrat beamed, dipping back in for a final chaste kiss before snuggling up against his husband. “Love you, Mako.”

Roadhog tried to keep the blood from pouring into his cheeks and his ears but couldn’t. “I love you too, Jamie.” He answered back quietly, tugging his husband further into his chest, nuzzling in the other man’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this was an okay chapter. I wanted to explore their relationship more. I headcanon that the two of them, while dating, would never have openly expressed their love by little ‘I love you’s’ but now that they are married? It’s like they can’t get it off their tongue fast enough. With those rings, they are each other’s forever and I love that for them. Again, sorry for the wait and, hopefully, I’ll start to post more often?


End file.
